/ 


CO., 

e  Law  and 
>ks, 

jations, 

t. 

i - . — 


I 


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[ 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 
DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 
SOCIETIES 


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v.l 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00014682122 


THE  BRITISH  POETS, 

PUBLISHED  BY 

LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY. 


EDITED  BY  PROFESSOR  CHILD, 

OF  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY. 


A  COMPLETE  COLLECTION,  FROM  CHAUCER  TO 
WORDSWORTH. 


This  Series  of  British  Poets  has  secured  the 
unqualified  commendation  of  the  press  and  the 
public  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  is  universally 
acknowledged  to  be  the  best  ever  issued,  both  in 
point  of  editorship  and  mechanical  execution. 

Notices  of  tf)c  $)tess. 

“  We  cannot  speak  too  highly  in  praise  of  this  edition  —  the 
only  one  that  deserves  the  name  of  ‘  complete  ’  —  of  the  British 
l'oets.”  —  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

“  We  really  know  nothing  more  worthy  of  the  cordial  support 
of  the  American  public  than  the  Boston  edition  of  the  English 
Poets.”  —  New  York  Times. 

“  A  fairer  printed,  a  more  tasteful  or  more  valuable,  set  of 
books  cannot  be  placed  in  any  library.”  —  New  York  Courier 
and'Enquirer. 

“The  best,  the  most  permanently  valuable,  the  most  con 

•  (D 


2 


THE  BRITISH  POETS 


venient,  and  the  cheapest  edition  of  the  standard  poetical  liter— 
erature  of  Great  Britain  ever  published.”  —  Home  Journal. 

“  We  regard  it  as  the  most  beautiful  and  convenient  library 
edition  of  the  British  Poets  yet  published.”  —  Philadelphia  Even¬ 
ing  Bulletin. 

“  We  do  not  know  any  other  edition  of  the  English  Poets 
which  combines  so  much  excellence.”  —  Bibliotheca  Sacra. 


The  following  volumes 


Akenside 

.  1  vol. 

Beattie  . 

.  1  vol. 

Butler  . 

.  2  vols. 

Campbell 

.  1  vol. 

Churchill 

.  3  vols. 

Coleridge 

.  3  vols. 

Collins  . 

.  1  vol. 

COWPER  . 

.  3  vols. 

Donne .  . 

Dryden  . 

.  5  vols. 

Falconer 

.  1  vol. 

Gay  .  . 

Goldsmith 

.  1  vol. 

Gray  .  . 

Herbert . 

.  1  vol. 

Herrick  . 

.  2  vols. 

Hood  .  . 

Keats  .  . 

are  already  issued :  — 


Milton . 3  vols. 

Moore . 6  vols. 

Parnell  &  Tickell  1  vol. 

Pope . 3  vols. 

Prior . 2  vols. 

Shakespeare  ...  1  vol. 

Shelley . 3  vols. 

Skelton . 3  vols. 

Spencer . 5  vols. 

Surrey . 1  vol. 

Swift . 3  vols. 

Thomson . 2  vols. 

Vaughan  ....  1  vol. 

Watts . 1  vol. 

White . 1  vol. 

Wordsworth  ...  7  vols. 

Wyatt . 1  vol. 

Young . 2  vols. 


***  We  have  in  Press,  and  shall  issue  soon,  the 
Works  of 

Burns,  Chaucer,  Montgomery, 

Byron,  Crabbe,  Scott, 

Chatterton,  Marvell,  Southey. 

The  remainder  of  the  series  will  be  published  as 
fast  as  the  volumes  can  be  prepared. 


THE  BRITISH  ESSAYISTS, 

PUBLISHED  BY 

LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY. 

112  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON. 


THE  * 


BRITISH  ESSAYISTS; 

WITH  PREFACES,  HISTORICAL  AND  BIOGRAPHICAL, 

BY  A.  CHALMERS,  F.S.A. 


Tatler, 

Spectator, 

Guardian, 

Rambler, 


In  38  yols.  16mo. 

Adventurer, 

World, 

Connoisseur, 

Idler, 


Mirror, 

Lounger, 

Observer, 

Looker-on. 


The  volumes  are  of  the  exact  size  and  style  of 
Little,  Brown  &  Co.’s  edition  of  the  “  British 
Poets,”  and  sold  at  the  same  price,  —  seventy-five 
cents  per  volume. 


Notices  of  tljc  $ress. 

“  No  greater  service  can  be  done  in  the  cause  of  good  letters, 
than  the  extensive  dissemination  of  these  standard  compositions. 
They  embrace  the  best  models  of  style  in  the  English  language. 
They  are  truly  works  that  no  library,  even  of  the  most  meagre 
pretensions,  can  afford  to  be  without.” —  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

,  (3) 


4 


THE  BRITISH  ESSAYISTS. 


“  Their  claims,  indeed,  are  very  great  to  the  respect  and  atten¬ 
tion  of  the  reading  world.  An  eminent  critic  and  essayist  of 
our  age  has  said,  ‘If  ever  the  best  Tatlers  and  Spectators  were 
equalled  in  their  own  kind,  we  should  be  inclined  to  guess  that 
it  must  have  been  by  the  lost  comedies  of  Menander.’  This  is 
meant  to  apply  to  the  contributions  of  Addison;  but  the  other 
essayists  were,  in  some  instances,  by  no  means  the  inferiors  of 
Addison,  though  their  talents  differed  from  his,  and  were  per¬ 
haps  less  adapted  to  essay-writing.  But  such  men  as  Steele, 
Johnson,  and  Hawkes worth,  were  among  the  first  writers  of 
their  time.”  —  Boston  Chi'onicle. 

“  ‘  The  Tatler,’  ‘  The  Rambler,’  ‘  The  Spectator,’  ‘  The  Guar¬ 
dian,’  ‘  The  Adventurer,’  written  by  such  men  as  Steele,  Johnson, 
Addison,  Hawkesworth,  are  standard  compositions,  —  models  of 
good  old  English.  So  varied  and  often  amusing  are  they,  so  cer¬ 
tain  to  cultivate  a  pure  style,  that  we  hardly  know  how  a  more 
judicious  selection  could  be  made,  of  works  to  make  a  family 
library,  than  this  edition  of  these  Essays.”  —  Boston  Post. 

“  A  beautiful  edition,  — just  the  right  size  to  hold  in  the  hand 
without  fatigue,  and  with  type  that  can  never  hurt  or  weary  the 
eyes.”  —  Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

“  As  models  of  English  prose  they  stand  unrivalled,  and  deserve 
a  place  in  every  library,  public  or  private,  but  especially  in 
every  school  and  town  library  in  the  country.”  —  Boston  Atlas. 

“  By  unanimous  consent  of  the  literary  Avorld  they  stand  at  the 
head  of  the  class  of  literature  to  which  they  belong.  A  com¬ 
plete  set  of  them  would  furnish  a  greater  variety  of  entertaining 
reading  than  any  other  series  of  books.” —  Cincinnati  Gazette. 

“  These  volumes  are  of  the  most  convenient  size  for  the  use  for 
which  they  are  designed  as  travelling  companions,  or  as  suited 
to  a  fireside  use.  We  would  commend  these  Essays  to  a  new 
generation  of  readers,  and  would  commend  them  highly.  They 
inculcate  wise  and  good  lessons;  their  spirit  is  generous  and 
large ;  they  embody  the  forms  and  manners  of  a  past  age ;  they 
are  classical  in  their  contents  and  moral  and  religious  in  their 
whole  influence.”  — Christian  Examiner. 


?y0/4. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


https://archive.org/details/poeticalworksofs01scot_0 


THE 


/A?  s'j”  or 
,  rS7 

v  i 

POETICAL  WORKS  p  sr  , 

A  e  c  (  A.\ 


OF 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


WITH  A  MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


VOLUME  I. 


BOSTON: 

LITTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY. 

SHEPARD,  CLARK  AND  liROWX. 

CINCINNATI :  MOORE,  WILSTACH,  KEYS  AND  CO. 
M.DCCC.LVII. 


k 


riverside,  Cambridge: 

STEREOTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 
H.  0.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  I. 


Page 

Memoir .  v 

Advertisement .  1 

Introduction  to  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  . .  3 

The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel .  35 

Canto  1 .  43 

Canto  II .  65 

Canto  III .  94 

Canto  IV .  445 

Canto  V .  161 

Canto  VI .  1"9 

Appendix  to  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel .  217 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Poems  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  are  reprinted 
from  the  standard  edition  of  Cadell,  Edinburgh, 
18ol.  The  smaller  pieces,  dispersed  through 
several  volumes  in  that  edition,  are  here,  with  the 
“  Imitations  of  the  Ancient  Ballad,”  from  the 
Border  Minstrelsy,  arranged  continuously ;  and  in 
compliance  with  a  demand  for  completeness,  we 
have  inserted  immediately  after  these,  various 
trifles  printed  in  Lockhart’s  Biography,  and  not 
generally  received  into  the  collections,  together 
with  the  poetry  of  the  Waverley  Novels.  The 
Memoir  is  extracted  from  an  edition  of  Scott’s 
poetry,  by  Adam  and  Charles  Black,  Edinburgh, 
1853. 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


Sir  Walter  Scott  was  born  at  Edinburgh 
on  the  15th  of  August,  1771,  the  same  day  which 
gave  birth  to  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  “  My  birth,” 
says  he,  “  was  neither  distinguished  nor  sordid. 
According  to  the  prejudices  of  my  country,  it 
was  esteemed  gentle ,  as  I  was  connected,  though 
remotely,  with  ancient  families,  both  by  my  father’s 
and  mother’s  side.”  His  paternal  great-grand¬ 
father — a  cadet  of  the  border  family  of  Harden — 
was  sprung,  in  the  fourteenth  century  from  the 
great  house  of  Buccleuch;  his  grandfather  be¬ 
came  a  farmer  in  Roxburghshire ;  and  his  father, 
Walter  Scott,  was  a  writer  to  the  signet  in  the 
Scottish  capital.  His  mother,  Anne  Rutherford, 
was  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  medical  professors 
in  the  university  of  Edinburgh. 

Neither  Scott’s  poetical  turn  nor  his  extraor¬ 
dinary  powers  of  memory  seem  to  have  been 
inherited  from  either  of  his  parents.  His  early 
years  displayed  little  precocity  of  talent ;  and  the 


VI 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


uneventful  tenor  of  his  childhood  and  youth 
seemed  little  calculated  to  awaken  in  his  mind 
a  love  of  the  imaginative  or  romantic. 

Before  he  had  completed  his  second  year,  deli¬ 
cacy  of  constitution,  and  lameness,  which  proved 
permanent,  assailed  him,  and  soon  afterwards 
caused  his  removal  to  the  country.  There,  at  his 
grandfather’s  farm-house  of  Sandyknowe,  situated 
beneath  the  crags  of  a  ruined  baronial  tower,  and 
overlooking  a  district  famous  in  border-history, 
the  poet  passed  his  childhood  till  about  his  eighth 
year,  with  scarcely  any  interruption  but  a  year  at 
Bath.  At  this  early  age  was  evinced  his  warm 
sympathy  with  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  nature  ; 
and  the  ballads  and  legends,  recited  to  him  amid 
the  scenes  in  which  their  events  were  laid,  co¬ 
operated  in  after-days  with  family  and  national 
pride  to  decide  the  bent  of  the  border-minstrel’s 
fancy. 

His  health  being  partially  confirmed,  he  was 
recalled  home  ;  and  from  the  end  of  1778  till 
1783  his  education  was  conducted  in  the  High 
School  of  Edinburgh,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
tutor  resident  in  his  father’s  house.  Prior  to  this 
change,  he  had  shown  a  decided  inclination  to¬ 
wards  literary  pursuits  ;  but  now,  introduced  with 
imperfect  preparation  into  a  large  and  thoroughly 
trained  class,  consisting  of  boisterous  boys,  his 
childish  zeal  for  learning  seems  to  have  been 
quenched  by  ambition  of  another  kind.  His 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


Vll 


memory,  it  is  true,  was  still  remarkable,  and  pro¬ 
cured  for  him  from  his  master  the  title  of  historian 
of  the  class ;  while  he  produced  some  school- 
verses,  both  translated  and  original,  at  least 
creditable  for  a  boy  of  twelve.  Even  his  intel¬ 
lectual  powers,  however,  were  less  active  in  the 
proper  business  of  the  school  than  in  enticing  his 
companions  from  their  tasks  by  merry  jests  and 
little  stories  ;  and  his  place  as  a  scholar  rarely 
rose  above  mediocrity.  But  his  reputation  stood 
high  in  the  play-ground,  where,  possessed  of  un¬ 
conquerable  courage,  and  eager  to  defeat  the 
scorn  which  his  physical  defects  excited,  he  per¬ 
formed  hazardous  feats  of  agility,  and  gained 
pugilistic  trophies  over  comrades  who,  that  they 
might  have  no  unfair  advantage  over  the  lame 
boy,  fought,  like  him,  lashed  face  to  face  on  a 
plank.  At  home,  his  tutor,  a  zealous  Presbyte¬ 
rian,  instructed  him,  chiefly  by  conversation,  in 
the  facts  of  Scottish  history,  though  without  being 
able  to  shake  those  opinions  which  the  boy  had 
already  taken  up  as  an  inheritance  from  his  Jac¬ 
obite  ancestors.  At  every  interval  also  which 
could  be  stolen  from  the  watchfulness  of  his  elders, 
he  eagerly  pursued  a  course  of  reading  miscel¬ 
laneous  and  undigested,  embracing  much  that  to 
most  minds  would  have  been  either  useless  or 
positively  injurious.  “  I  left  the  High  School,” 
says  he,  “  with  a  great  quantity  of  general  infor¬ 
mation,  ill  arranged,  indeed,  and  collected  without 


Vlll 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


system,  yet  deeply  impressed  upon  my  mind, 
readily  assorted  by  my  power  of  connection  and 
memory,  and  gilded,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  say 
so,  by  a  vivid  and  active  imagination.” 

His  perusal  of  histories,  voyages,  and  travels, 
fairy  tales,  romances,  and  English  poetry,  was 
continued,  with  increasing  avidity,  during  a  long 
visit  which,  in  his  twelfth  year,  he  paid  to  his 
father’s  sister,  at  the  village  of  Kelso,  where  the 
young  student  read  for  the  first  time,  with  en¬ 
tranced  enthusiasm,  Percy’s  Reliques  of  Ancient 
Poetry.  This  work,  besides  the  delight  imparted 
by  its  poems,  gave  new  dignity,  in  his  eyes,  to  his 
favourite  Scottish  ballads,  which  he  had  already 
begun  to  collect  from  recitation,  and  to  copy  in 
little  volumes,  several  of  which  are  still  preserved. 
“  To  this  period,  also,”  he  tells  us,  “  I  can  trace 
distinctly  the  awaking  of  that  delightful  feeling 
for  the  beauties  of  natural  objects,  which  has 
never  since  deserted  me.  The  romantic  feelings 
which  I  have  described  as  predominating  in  my 
mind,  naturally  rested  upon  and  associated  them¬ 
selves  with  the  grand  features  of  the  landscape 
around  me ;  and  the  historical  incidents  or  tradi¬ 
tional  legends  connected  with  many  of  them  gave 
to  my  admiration  a  sort  of  intense  impression  of 
reverence,  which  at  times  made  my  heart  feel  too 
big  for  its  bosom.  From  this  time  the  love  of 
natural  beauty,  more  especially  when  combined 
with  ancient  ruins,  or  remains  of  our  father’s  piety 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


IX 


or  splendour,  became  with  me  an  insatiable  pas¬ 
sion,  which,  if  circumstances  had  permitted,  I 
would  willingly  have  gratified  by  travelling  over 
half  the  globe.” 

In  November,  1783,  Scott  became  a  student  in 
the  university  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  seems  to 
have  attended  the  classes  of  Greek,  Latin,  and 
logic,  during  one  session,  with  those  of  ethics  and 
universal  history  at  a  later  period,  while  prepar¬ 
ing  for  the  bar.  At  college,  the  scholastic  part 
of  his  education  proceeded  even  more  unprosper- 
ously  than  it  had  previously  done.  For  science, 
mental,  physical,  or  mathematical,  he  displayed  no 
inclination ;  and  in  the  acquisition  of  languages, 
for  which  he  possessed  considerable  aptitude,  he 
was  but  partially  industrious  or  successful.  Of 
Greek,  as  his  son-in-law  and  biographer  admits, 
he  had  in  later  life  forgotten  the  very  alphabet. 
He  had,  indeed,  entered  on  the  study  with  disad¬ 
vantages  similar  to  those  which  had  formerly 
impeded  his  progress  in  Latin.  Inferior  to  his 
competitors,  he  petulantly  resolved  to  despise  the 
study  ;  and  by  his  carelessness,  and  by  an  essay 
maintaining  Ariosto  to  be  a  better  poet  than  Ho¬ 
mer,  he  provoked  Dr.  Dalziel  to  pronounce  of  him 
“  that  dunce  he  was,  and  dunce  he  would  remain.” 
His  knowledge  of  Latin,  also,  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  more  than  superficial,  although  we  are 
informed  that  for  some  writers  in  that  tongue, 
especially  Lucan,  Claudian,  and  Buchanan,  he 


X 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


had  iii  after  life  a  decided  predilection.  About 
the  time  now  under  review,  he  also  acquired 
French,  Italian,  and  Spanish,  all  of  which  he  af¬ 
terwards  read  with  sufficient  ease  ;  and  the  Ger¬ 
man  language  was  learned  a  few  years  later,  but 
never  critically  understood. 

During  a  severe  illness,  between  his  twelfth 
and  sixteenth  year,  his  stores  of  romantic  and 
poetical  reading  received  a  vast  increase,  and 
one  of  his  schoolfellows  has  given  an  interesting 
account  of  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
city,  during  this  period,  when  the  two  youths  read 
poems  and  romances  of  knight-errantry,  and  exer¬ 
cised  their  invention  in  composing  and  relating 
to  each  other  interminable  tales  modelled  on  their 
favourite  books.  The  vocation  of  the  romance- 
writer  and  poet  of  chivalry  was  thus  already  fixed. 
His  health  likewise  became  permanently  robust, 
and  the  lameness  in  one  leg,  which  was  the  sole 
remnant  of  his  early  complaints,  was  through  life 
no  obstacle  to  his  habits  of  active  bodily  exertion, 
or  to  his  love  for  out-of-door  sports  and  exercise. 

The  next  step  in  his  life  did  not  seem  directed 
towards  the  goal  to  which  all  his  favourite  studies 
pointed.  Ilis  father,  a  formal,  though  high-spirited 
and  high-principled  man,  designed  him  for  the 
legal  profession ;  and,  although  he  was  desirous 
that  his  son  should  embrace  the  highest  depart¬ 
ment  of  it,  considered  it  advisable,  according  to  a 
practice  not  uncommon  in  Scotland,  ffiat  he  should 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XI 


be  prepared  for  the  bar  by  an  education  as  an 
attorney.  Accordingly,  in  May,  1786,  Scott,  then 
nearly  fifteen  years  old,  was  articled  for  five  years 
as  an  apprentice  to  his  father,  in  whose  chambers 
he  continued  to  discharge  the  humble  duties  of  a 
clerk,  until,  about  the  year  1790,  he  had,  with  his 
father’s  approbation,  finally  resolved  on  coming  to 
the  bar.  Of  the  amount  of  the  young  poet’s 
professional  industry  during  those  years  of  servi¬ 
tude,  we  possess  conflicting  representations ;  but 
many  circumstances  in  his  habits,  many  peculiari¬ 
ties  in  the  knowledge  he  exhibits  incidently  in  his 
works,  and  perhaps  even  much  of  his  resolute 
literary  industry,  may  be  safely  referred  to  the 
period  of  his  apprenticeship,  and  be  admitted  as 
evidence  that  at  all  events  he  was  not  system¬ 
atically  negligent  of  his  duties.  Historical  and 
imaginative  reading,  however,  continued  to  be 
prosecuted  with  undiminished  ardour ;  summer 
excursions  into  the  Highlands  introduced  him  to 
the  scenes  and  to  more  than  one  of  the  characters, 
which  afterwards  figured  in  his  most  successful 
works  ;  while  in  the  law-classes  of  the  university, 
as  well  as  in  the  juvenile  debating  societies  he 
formed,  or  renewed  from  his  school-days,  acquaint¬ 
ance  with  several  who  became  in  manhood  his 
cherished  friends  and  his  literary  advisers.  In 
1791,  the  Speculative  Society  made  him  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Jeffrey  and  those  other  young  men  whose 
subsequent  celebrity  has  reflected  lustre  on  the 
arena  of  their  early  training. 


Xii  MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

Scott’s  attempts  in  poetry  had  now  become 
more  ambitious ;  for,  about  the  completion  of  his 
fifteenth  year,  he  is  said  to  have  composed  a  poem 
in  four  books  on  the  Conquest  of  Granada,  which, 
however,  he  almost  immediately  burned,  and  no 
trace  of  it  has  been  preserved.  During  some 
years  after  this  time,  we  hear  of  no  other  literary 
compositions  than  essays  for  the  debating  societies. 

In  July,  1792,  he  was  called  to  the  bar.  Im¬ 
mediately  after  his  first  circuit,  he  commenced 
that  series  of  “  raids,”  as  he  playfully  called  them, 
or  excursions  into  the  secluded  border-districts, 
which,  in  a  few  years,  enabled  him  to  amass  the 
materials  for  his  first  considerable  work.  His 
walks  on  the  boards  of  the  Parliament  House,  the 
Westminster  Hall  of  Scotland,  if  they  gained  him 
for  a  time  few  professional  fees,  speedily  procured 
him  renown  among  his  fellow-lawyers  as  a  story¬ 
teller  of  high  excellence  ;  his  father’s  connections 
and  his  own  friendships  opened  for  him  a  ready 
admission  into  the  best  society  of  the  city,  in  which 
his  cheerful  temper  and  his  rich  store  of  anecdotes 
made  him  universally  popular;  and  his  German 
studies  produced,  in  1796,  his  earliest  poetical 
efforts  that  were  published,  namely,  the  transla¬ 
tions  of  Burger’s  ballads,  Lenora,  and  the  Wild 
Huntsman.  The  same  year  witnessed  the  dis¬ 
appointment  of  a  long  and  fondly-cherished  hope, 
by  the  marriage  of  a  young  lady,  whose  image, 
notwithstanding,  clung  to  his  memory  through  life, 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


Xlll 


and  inspired  some  of  the  tenderest  strains  of  his 
poetry.  In  the  summer  of  1797.  however,  on  a 
visit  to  the  watering-place  of  Gilsland,  in  Cum¬ 
berland,  he  became  acquainted  with  Charlotte 
Margaret  Carpenter,  a  young  lady  of  French  birth 
and  parentage,  and  a  mutual  attachment  having 
ensued,  they  were  married  at  Carlisle  in  Decem¬ 
ber  of  the  same  year. 

The  German  ballads  served  as  the  translator’s 
introduction  to  the  then  celebrated  Matthew  Greg¬ 
ory  Lewis,  who  enlisted  him  as  a  contributor  to 
his  poetical  Tales  of  Wonder ;  and  one  cannot 
now  but  smile  to  hear  of  the  elation  with  which 
the  author  of  Waverley  at  that  time  contemplated 
the  patronizing  kindness  extended  to  him  by  the 
author  of  The  Monk.  Early  in  1788  was  pub¬ 
lished  Scott’s  translation  of  Goethe’s  “  Goetz  von 
Berlichingen,”  which,  through  Lewis’s  assistance, 
was  sold  to  a  London  bookseller  for  twenty-five 
guineas ;  but,  though  favourably  criticized,  it  was 
coldly  received  by  the  public.  In  the  summer  of 
1799,  the  poet  wrote  those  ballads  which  he  has 
himself  called  his  “  first  serious  attempts  in  verse  ;  ” 
the  Glenfinlas,  the  Eve  of  St.  John,  and  the  Grey 
Brother. 

After  Scott’s  marriage,  several  of  his  summers 
were  spent  in  a  pretty  cottage  at  Lass  wade,  near 
Edinburgh,  where  he  formed,  besides  other  ac¬ 
quaintances,  those  of  the  noble  houses  of  Melville 
and  Buccleuch,  whose  influence  procured  for  him, 


XIV 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


in  the  end  of  1799,  his  appointment  as  sheriff- 
depute  of  Selkirkshire,  an  office  imposing  little 
duty,  while  it  yielded  a  permanent  salary  of  three 
hundred  pounds  per  annum.  His  father’s  death 
had  recently  bestowed  on  him  a  small  patrimony  ; 
his  wife  had  an  income  considerable  enough  to 
aid  him  greatly ;  his  practice  as  a  lawyer  yielded, 
though  not  much,  yet  more  than  barristers  of  his 
standing  can  usually  boast  of ;  and,  altogether,  his 
situation  in  life  was  strikingly  favourable  compared 
with  that  of  most  literary  men.  Still,  however, 
though  now  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  he  had 
done  nothing  to  found  a  reputation  as  a  man  of 
letters ;  and  there  appeared  as  yet  little '  probabil¬ 
ity  that  he  would  devote  himself  to  literature  as  a 
profession,  or  consider  it  as  any  thing  more  than 
a  relaxation  for  those  leisure  hours  left  unoccu¬ 
pied  by  business,  and  by  the  enjoyments  of  society. 

In  1800  and  1801  those  hours  were  employed 
in  the  preparation  of  the  Border  Minstrelsy,  the 
first  two-  volumes  of  which  appeared  in  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  next  year,  and  the  edition,  consisting 
of  eight  hundred  copies,  was  sold  off  before  its 
close.  This  work,  the  earliest  which  can  be  said 
to  have  contributed  to  his  general  fame,  yielded 
him  about  eighty  pounds  of  clear  profit ;  a  sum  far 
inadequate  to  defray  the  expense  of  the  investiga 
tions  out  of  which  it  sprang.  In  1803  it  was 
completed  by  the  publication  of  the  third  volume. 
Besides  the  value  which  the  Minstrelsy  possesses 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XV 


in  itself,  in  the  noble  antique  ballads,  so  industri¬ 
ously,  tastefully,  and  yet  conscientiously  edited,  in 
the  curious  and  lively  information  which  overflows 
through  all  the  prose  annotations,  and  in  those 
few  original  poems  which  gave  the  earliest  and 
most  significant  intimation  of  that  genius  which  as 
yet  had  lurked  unseen,  the  work  has  now  a  separ¬ 
ate  value  and  interest,  as  forming  the  most  curious 
of  all  illustrations  for  the  history  of  its  editor’s 
mind  and  of  his  subsequent  works.  “  One  of  the 
critics  of  that  day,”  remarks  Mr.  Lockhart,  “said 
that  the  book  contained  ‘  the  elements  of  a  hun¬ 
dred  historical  romances;’  and  this  critic  was  a 
prophetic  one.  No  person  who  has  not  gone 
through  its  volumes  for  the  express  purpose  of 
comparing  their  contents  with  his  great  original 
works,  can  have  formed  a  conception  of  the  end¬ 
less  variety  of  incidents  and  images,  now  expanded 
and  emblazoned  by  his  mature  art,  of  which  the 
first  hints  may  be  found  either  in  the  text  of  those 
primitive  ballads,  or  in  the  notes  which  the  happy 
rambles  of  his  youth  had  gathered  together  for 
their  illustration.” 

But  before  the  publication  of  the  Border  Min¬ 
strelsy,  the  poet  had  begun  to  attempt  a  higher 
flight.  “  In  the  third  volume,”  says  he,  writing 
to  his  friend  George  Ellis  in  1803,  “I  intend  to 
publish  a  long  poem  of  my  own.  It  will  be  a 
kind  of  romance  of  border  chivalry,  in  a  light- 
horseman  sort  of  stanza.”  This  border  romance 


XVI 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


was  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  which,  however, 
soon  extended  in  plan  and  dimensions,  and,  orig¬ 
inating  as  a  ballad  on  a  goblin  story,  became  at 
length  a  long  and  varied  poem.  The  first  draft 
of  it,  in  its  present  shape,  was  written  in  the 
autumn  of  1802,  and  the  whole  history  of  its 
progress  has  been  delightfully  told  by  the  author 
himself,  and  is  well  illustrated  by  his  biographer. 

In  1803,  during  a  visit  to  London,  Scott,  al¬ 
ready  familiarly  acquainted  with  Ellis,  Heber, 
and  other  literary  men,  and  now  possessing  high 
reputation  based  upon  the  Minstrelsy,  was  intro¬ 
duced  to  several  of  the  first  men  of  the  time  ;  and 
thenceforth,  bland  as  he  was  in  manner,  and  kind 
in  heart,  indefatigable  and  successful  in  his  study 
of  human  character,  and  always  willing  to  receive 
with  cordiality  the  strangers  whom  his  waxing 
fame  brought  about  him,  it  is  not  surprising  to 
find,  that  not  to  know  personally  Walter  Scott, 
argued  one’s  self  unknown.  The  toleration  and 
kindliness  of  his  character  are  illustrated  by  the 
fact,  that  firm  as  his  own  political  opinions  were, 
and  violently  as  excitement  sometimes  led  him 
to  express  them,  not  only  did  he  always  continue 
on  friendly  terms  with  the  chief  men  of  the  op¬ 
posite  party  in  Edinburgh,  but  several  of  them 
were  his  intimate  friends  and  associates ;  and 
he  even  was  for  some  years  an  occasional  con¬ 
tributor  to  the  Edinburgh  Review. 

In  1804  was  published  his  edition  of  the  ancient 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


xvii 

poem  of  Sir  Tristrem,  so  valuable  for  its  learned 
dissertations,  and  for  that  admirable  imitation  of 
the  antique,  which  appears  as  a  continuation  of 
the  early  minstrel’s  work. 

During  that  year  and  the  preceding,  the  Lay 
was  freely  submitted  to  all  the  author’s  friends, 
Wordsworth  and  Jeffrey  among  the  rest;  and 
after  undergoing  various  changes,  and  receiving 
enthusiastic  approval  in  several  quarters  from 
which  commendation  was  wont  to  issue  but  spar¬ 
ingly,  it  was  at  length  published,  in  the  first  week 
of  1805.  The  poet,  now  thirty-three  years  of 
age,  took  his  place  at  once  as  a  classic  in  English 
literature.  Its  circulation  immediately  became 
immense,  and  has  since  exceeded  that  of  any  other 
English  poem. 

At  this  culminating  point  of  the  poet’s  life,  we 
must  turn  aside  from  the  narrative  of  his  literary 
triumphs,  to  notice  a  step  of  another  kind,  which 
proved  the  most  important  he  ever  took.  In  one 
of  those  interesting  communications  of  1830, 
which  throw  so  much  light  on  his  personal  his¬ 
tory,  he  has  told  us,  that  from  the  moment  when 
it  became  certain  that  literature  was  to  form  the 
principal  employment  of  his  days,  he  determined 
that  it  should  at  least  not  constitute  a  necessary 
source  of  his  income.  Few  literary  men,  per¬ 
haps,  have  not  nourished  a  wish  of  this  sort ;  but 
very  few,  indeed,  have  possessed,  like  Scott,  the 
means  of  converting  the  desire  into  an  effectual 

O 

b 


VOL.  1. 


XV111 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


resolution.  In  1805,  as  his  biographer  tells  us, 
he  was,  “  independently  of  practice  at  the  bar  and 
of  literary  profits,  in  possession  of  a  fixed  revenue 
of  nearly,  if  not  quite,  one  thousand  pounds  a 
year.”  To  most  men  of  letters  this  income  would 
have  appeared  affluence ;  but  Scott  has  frankly 
avowed  that  he  did  not  think  it  such.  His  mind 
was  already  filled  with  the  ambition,  not  of  found¬ 
ing  a  new  family  (for  that  was  too  mean  an  aim 
for  his  pride  of  birth  to  stoop  to),  but  of  adding  to 
his  own  ancestral  pretensions  that  claim  to  respect 
which  ancient  pedigree  does  not  always  possess 
when  it  stands  alone,  but  which  belongs  to  it  be¬ 
yond  challenge  when  it  is  united  with  territorial 
possessions.  The  fame  of  a  great  poet,  now 
within  his  reach,  if  not  already  grasped,  seemed 
to  him  a  little  thing,  compared  with  the  dignity 
of  a  well-descended  and  wealthy  Scottish  land¬ 
holder  ;  and,  while  neither  he  nor  his  friends 
could  yet  have  foreseen  the  immensity  of  those 
resources  which  his  genius  was  afterwards  to 
place  at  his  disposal  for  the  attainment  of  his 
favourite  wish,  two  plans  occurred  and  were  exe¬ 
cuted,  which  promised  to  conduct  him  far  at  least 
towards  the  goal. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  obtaining  of  one  of 
the  principal  clerkships  in  the  Scottish  Court  of 
Session,  offices  of  high  respectability,  the  duties 
of  which  were  executed  at  a  moderate  cost  of 
time  and  trouble,  and  remunerated  at  that  time 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XIX 


by  an  income  of  about  eight  hundred  pounds  a 
year,  which  was  afterwards  increased  to  thirteen 
hundred  pounds.  This  object  was  attained  early 
in  1806,  through  his  ministerial  influence,  aided 
by  the  consideration  paid  to  his  talents  ;  although, 
owing  to  a  private  arrangement  with  his  prede¬ 
cessor,  he  did  not  receive  any  part  of  the  emolu¬ 
ments  till  six  years  later. 

The  second  plan  was  of  a  different  sort,  being 
in  fact  a  commercial  speculation.  James  Ballan- 
tyne,  a  schoolfellow  of  Scott,  a  man  possessing 
considerable  literary  talent,  having  become  the 
editor  and  printer  of  a  newspaper  in  Kelso,  had 
been  employed  to  print  the  Minstrelsy,  and  ac¬ 
quired  great  reputation  by  the  elegance  with 
which  that  work  was  produced.  Soon  afterwards, 
in  pursuance  of  Scott’s  advice,  he  removed  to 
Edinburgh,  where,  under  the  patronage  of  the 
poet  and  his  friends,  and  assisted  by  his  own  char¬ 
acter  and  skill,  his  printing  business  accumulated 
to  an  extent  which  his  capital,  even  with  pecu¬ 
niary  aid  from  Scott,  proved  inadequate  to  sus¬ 
tain.  An  application  for  a  new  loan  was  met  by 
a  refusal,  accompanied,  however,  by  a  proposal, 
that  Scott  should  make  a  large  advance,  on  con¬ 
dition  of  being  admitted  as  a  partner  in  the  firm, 
to  the  amount  of  a  third  share.  Accordingly,  in 
May,  1805,  Walter  Scott  became  regularly  a 
partner  of  the  printing-house  of  James  Ballantyne 
and  Company,  though  the  fact  remained  for  the 


XX 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

public,  and  for  all  his  friends  but  one,  a  profound 
secret.  “  The  forming  of  this  commercial  connec¬ 
tion  was,”  says  his  son-in-law,  “  one  of  the  most 
important  steps  in  Scott’s  life.  He  continued 
bound  by  it  during  twenty  years,  and  its  influence 
on  his  literary  exertions  and  his  worldly  fortunes 
was  productive  of  much  good  and  not  a  little  evil. 
Its  effects  were  in  truth  so  mixed  and  balanced 
during  the  vicissitudes  of  a  long  and  vigorous 
career,  that  I  at  this  moment  doubt  whether  it 
ought,  on  the  whole,  to  be  considered  with  more 
of  satisfaction  or  of  regret.” 

From  this  time  we  are  to  view  Scott  as  inces¬ 
santly  engaged  in  that  memorable  course  of  lit¬ 
erary  industry  whose  toils  advancing  years  served 
only  to  augment,  and  from  which  neither  the 
duties  of  his  two  professional  offices  of  clerk  of 
session  and  sheriff,  nor  the  increasing  claims 
made  on  him  by  society,  were  ever  able  to  divert 
him.  He  now  stood  deservedly  high  in  the  favour 
of  the  booksellers,  not  merely  as  a  poet  and  man 
of  genius,  but  as  one  possessed  of  an  extraordinary 
mass  of  information,  and  of  such  habits  as  quali¬ 
fied  him  eminently  for  turning  his  knowledge  to 
account.  He  was  therefore  soon  embarked  in 
undertakings,  not,  indeed,  altogether  inglorious, 
but  involving  an  amount  of  drudgery  to  which, 
perhaps,  no  man  of  equal  original  genius  has  ever 
condescended.  The  earliest  of  these  was  his  edi¬ 
tion  of  Dryden,  which,  entered  upon  in  1805,  was 
completed  and  published  in  1808. 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XXI 


But  the  list  of  works  in  which  his  poetical 
genius  shone  forth,  continued  rapidly  to  increase 
amidst  his  multiplicity  of  other  avocations.  From 
the  summer  of  1804  till  that  of  1812,  the  spring 
and  autumnal  vacations  of  the  court  were  spent 
by  him  and  his  family  at  Ashestiel,  a  small  man¬ 
sion  romantically  overhanging  the  Tweed  some 
miles  above  Melrose,  and  rented  from  one  of  the 
poet’s  kinsmen.  In  this  beautiful  retreat,  at  in¬ 
tervals  during  twelve  months,  was  chiefly  com¬ 
posed  the  magnificent  poem  of  Marmion,  which 
was  published  in  the  beginning  of  1808.  At  the 
same  place,  likewise,  in  1805,  were  composed  the 
opening  chapters  of  a  novel  which,  on  the  disap¬ 
proval  of  one  of  the  author’s  critical  friends,  was 
thrown  aside  and  not  resumed  for  years. 

Scott’s  commercial  engagements  must  now  again 
be  adverted  to.  In  the  year  1808  he  took  a  part, 
perhaps  as  suggester,  certainly  as  a  zealous  pro¬ 
moter,  of  a  scheme  which  terminated  in  the  estab¬ 
lishment  of  the  Quarterly  Review  in  London,  as 
a  political  and  literary  counterpoise  to  the  Edin¬ 
burgh  Review,  the  advocate  of  Whig  opinions. 
But  the  poet  had  other  than  political  grounds  for 
embarking  in  this  opposition.  He  had  seriously 
quarrelled  with  the  firm  of  Constable  and  Com¬ 
pany,  the  publishers  of  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
and  of  several  of  his  own  earlier  works  ;  and  his 
wish  to  check  the  enterprising  head  of  that  house 
in  his  attempts  to  obtain  a  monopoly  of  Scottish 


XXII 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


literature,  is  openly  avowed,  in  Scott’s  correspond¬ 
ence  at  the  time,  as  one  of  his  principal  motives 
for  framing  another  scheme.  His  plan,  as  far  as 
it  was  explained  either  to  the  public  or  to  his  own 
friends,  amounted  only  to  this :  That  a  new  pub¬ 
lishing  house  should  be  set  up  in  Edinburgh,  un¬ 
der  the  management  of  John  Ballantyne,  a  younger 
brother  of  James  ;  and  that  this  firm,  with  the 
acknowledged  patronage  of  Scott  and  his  friends, 
should  engage  in  a  series  of  extensive  literary 
undertakings,  including,  amongst  others,  the  an¬ 
nual  publication  of  a  historical  and  literary  Regis¬ 
ter,  conducted  on  Tory  principles.  But,  unfor¬ 
tunately  both  for  Scott’s  peace  of  mind,  and 
ultimately  also  for  his  worldly  fortunes,  there  was 
here,  as  in  his  previously  formed  connection  with 
the  same  family,  an  undivulged  secret.  The 
profits  of  the  printing-house  had  been  large ; 
Scott’s  territorial  ambition  had  been  growing 
faster  than  his  prospect  of  being  able  to  feed  it ; 
and  these  causes,  inextricably  mixed  up  with 
pique  towards  Constable,  and  kindliness  for  his 
Kelso  proteges,  led  him  into  an  entanglement 
which  at  length  ruined  both  himself  and  his  asso¬ 
ciates.  By  the  contract  of  the  publishing  house 
of  John  Ballantyne  and  Company,  executed  in 
May,  1808,  Scott  became  a  secret  partner  to  the 
extent  of  one  third.  The  unhappy  issue  of  this 
affair  will  force  itself  on  our  notice  at  a  later 
stage. 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XXIU 


In  the  mean  time  we  see  him  prosecuting  for 
some  time  his  career  of  poetical  success.  The 
Lady  of  the  Lake,  published  in  1810,  was  fol¬ 
lowed  by  the  Vision  of  Don  Roderick  in  1811  ; 
by  Rokeby  in  1812  ;  and  by  the  Bridal  of  Trier- 
main,  which  came  out  anonymously  in  1813.  His 
poems  may  be  said  to  have  closed  in  1815  with 
the  Lord  of  the  Isles  and  the  Field  of  Waterloo  ; 
since  Harold  the  Dauntless,  in  1817,  appeared 
without  the  writer’s  name,  and  the  dramatic  poems 
of  1822  and  1830  are  quite  unworthy  of  him.  In 
the  midst  of  these  poetical  employments  he  made 
his  second  and  last  great  appearance  as  an  editor 
and  commentator  of  English  classics,  by  publish¬ 
ing,  in  1814,  his  edition  of  Swift. 

But  from  1815  till  1825,  Scott’s  name  ceased 
almost  entirely  to  be  before  the  public  as  an 
avowed  author ;  and  for  those  who  chose  to  be¬ 
lieve  that  he  was  not  the  writer  of  the  Waverley 
Novels  it  must  have  been  a  question  not  a  little 
puzzling,  if  it  ever  occurred  to  them,  how  this 
man,  who  wrote  with  such  ease,  and  seemed  to 
take  such  pleasure  in  writing,  was  now  occupying 
his  hours  of  leisure.  A  few  articles  in  the  Quar¬ 
terly  Review,  such  works  as  Paul’s  Letters,  and 
annotations  in  occasional  editions  of  ancient  tracts, 
accounted  but  poorly  for  his  time  during  ten  years. 

About  1813  and  1814,  his  popularity  as  a  poet 
was  sensibly  on  the  decline,  partly  from  causes 
inherent  in  his  later  poems  themselves,  and  partly 


XXIV 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


from  extraneous  causes,  among  which  a  prominent 
place  belongs  to  the  appearance  of  Byron.  No 
man  was  more  quicksighted  than  Scott  in  per¬ 
ceiving  the  ebb  of  popular  favour ;  and  no  man 
•  • 

better  prepared  to  meet  the  reverse  with  firmness. 
He  put  in  serious  execution  a  threat  which  he 
had  playfully  uttered  to  one  of  his  own  family 
even  before  the  publication  of  the  Lady  of  the 
Lake.  “  If  I  fail  now,”  said  he,  “  I  will  write 
prose  for  life.”  And  in  writing  prose,  his  genius 
discovered,  on  its  first  attempt,  a  field  in  which  it 
earned  triumphs  even  more  splendid  than  its 
early  ones  in  the  domain  of  poetry. 

The  chapters  of  fiction  begun  at  Ashestiel  in 
1805,  which  had  already  been  resumed  and  again 
thrown  aside,  were  once  more  taken  up,  and  the 
work  was  finished  with  miraculous  rapidity ;  the 
second  and  third  volumes  having  been  written 
during  the  afternoons  of  three  summer  weeks  in 
1814.  The  novel  appeared  in  July  of  that  year, 
under  the  title  of  Waverley,  and  its  success  from 
the  first  was  unequivocal  and  unparalleled.  In 
the  midst  of  occupations  which  would  have  taken 
away  all  leisure  from  other  men,  the  press  poured 
forth  novels  and  romances  in  a  succession  so  rapid 
as  to  deprive  of  some  part  of  its  absurdity  one  of 
the  absurd  suppositions  of  the  day,  namely,  that 
more  persons  than  one  were  concerned  in  their 
production.  Guy  Mannering,  the  second  of  the 
series,  in  1815,  was  followed  in  1816  by  the  An- 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XXV 


tiquary  and  the  First  Series  of  the  Tales  of  My 
Landlord.  Hob  Roy  appeared  in  1817  ;  the 
Second  Series  of  the  Tales  in  1818  ;  and  in  1819 
the  Third  Series  and  Ivanhoe.  Two  romances 
a  year  now  seemed  to  be  expected  as  the  due 
of  the  public.  The  year  1820  gave  them  the 
Monastery  and  the  Abbot:  1821,  Kenilworth 
and  the  Pirate ;  the  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  coming 
out  alone  in  1822,  was  followed  in  1823  by  no 
fewer  than  three  works  of  faction,  X  everil  of 
the  Peak,  Quentin  Durward,  and  St.  Ronan  s 
Well ;  and  the  comparatively  scanty  number  of 
novels  in  1824  and  1825,  which  produced  respec¬ 
tively  only  Redgauntlet  and  the  Tales  of  the 
Crusaders,  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the 
author  was  engaged  in  preparing  a  large  historical 
work. 

It  is  impossible  even  to  touch  on  the  many 
interesting  details  which  Scott’s  personal  history 
presents  during  these  brilliant  years ;  but  it  is 
indispensable  to  say,  that  his  dream  of  territorial 
acquisition  was  realized  with  a  splendour  which,  a 
few  years  before,  he  himself  could  not  have  hoped 
for.  The  first  step  was  taken  in  1811,  by  the 
purchase  of  a  small  farm  of  a  hundred  acres  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  which  received  the  name 
of  Abbotsford,  and  in  a  few  years  grew,  by  new 
purchases,  into  a  large  estate.  The  modest  dwell¬ 
ing  first  planned  on  this  little  manor,  with  its 
two  spare  bed-rooms  and  its  plain  appurtenance?, 


xxvi 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


expanded  itself,  in  like  manner  with  its  master’s 
waxing  means  of  expenditure,  till  it  had  become 
that  baronial  castle  which  we  now  reverentially 
visit  as  the  minstrel’s  home.  The  hospitality  of 
the  poet  increased  with  his  seeming  prosperity ; 
his  mornings  were  dedicated  to  composition,  and 
his  evenings  to  society ;  and  from  the  date  of  his 
baronetcy,  in  1820,  to  the  final  catastrophe  in 
1826,  no  mansion  in  Europe,  of  poet  or  of  noble¬ 
man,  could  boast  such  a  succession  of  guests  illus¬ 
trious  for  rank  or  talent,  as  those  who  sat  at  Sir 

» 

Walter  Scott’s  board,  and  departed  proud  of  hav¬ 
ing  been  so  honoured.  His  family  meanwhile 
grew  up  around  him ;  his  eldest  son  and  daughter 
married ;  most  of  his  early  friends  continued  to 
stand  by  his  side ;  and  few  that  saw  the  poet  in 
1825,  a  hale  and  seemingly  happy  man  of  fifty- 
four,  could  have  guessed  that  there  remained  for 
him  only  a  few  more  years  (years  of  mortification 
and  of  sorrow),  before  he  should  sink  into  the 
grave,  struck  down  by  internal  calamity,  not  by 
the  gentle  hand  of  time. 

And  yet  not  only  was  this  the  issue,  but,  even 
in  the  hour  of  his  greatest  seeming  prosperity, 
Scott  had  again  and  again  been  secretly  struggling 
against  some  of  the  most  alarming  anxieties.  On 
details  as  to  his  unfortunate  commercial  engage¬ 
ments  we  cannot  here  enter.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  the  printing  company,  of  which  he  was  a 
partner,  which  seems  to  have  had  considerable 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XXV11 


liabilities  even  before  the  establishment  of  the  • 
publishing  house,  was  now  inextricably  entangled 
with  the  concerns  of  the  latter,  many  of  whose 
largest  speculations  had  been  completely  unsuc¬ 
cessful  ;  that,  besides  this,  both  firms  were  in¬ 
volved  to  an  enormous  extent  with  the  house  of 
Constable  ;  and  that  large  sums,  which  had  been 
drawn  by  Sir  Walter  as  copyright-money  for  the 
novels,  had  been  paid  in  bills  which  were  still 
current,  and  threatening  to  come  back  on  him. 

In  the  beginning  of  1826,  Constable’s  house 
stopped  payment ;  and  the  failure  of  the  firm  of 
Ballantyne,  for  a  very  large  sum,  followed  instantly 
and  of  course.  Probably  even  th^  utter  ruin 
which  this  catastrophe  brought  upon  Scott,  was 
not  more  painful  to  him  than  the  exposure  which 
it  necessarily  involved,  of  those  secret  connections, 
the  existence  of  which  even  his  most  confidential 
friends  could  till  now  have  at  most  only  suspected. 
But  if  he  had  been  imprudent,  he  was  both  coura¬ 
geous  and  honorable  ;  and  in  no  period  of  his  life 
does  he  appear  to  such  advantage,  as  when  he 
stood,  as  now,  beggared,  humbled,  and  covered 
with  a  load  of  debt  from  which  no  human  exer¬ 
tions  seemed  able  to  relieve  him.  He  came  for¬ 
ward,  without  a  day’s  delay,  and  refused  to  be 
dealt  with  as  an  ordinary  bankrupt,  or  to  avail 
himself  of  those  steps  which  would  have  set  him 
free  from  the  claims  of  his  creditors,  on  surrender¬ 
ing  his  property  to  them.  He  insisted  that  these 


XXV  111 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


claims  should,  so  far  as  regarded  him,  be  still 
allowed  to  subsist ;  and  he  pledged  himself  that  the 
labour  of  his  future  life  should  be  unremittingly 
devoted  to  the  discharge  of  them.  He  did  more 
than  fulfil  his  noble  promise ;  for  the  gigantic 
toil  to  which,  during  years  after  this,  he  sub¬ 
mitted,  was  the  immediate  cause  that  shortened 
his  life.  His  self-sacrifice,  however,  effected 
astonishingly  much  towards  the  purpose  which  it 
was  designed  to  serve.  Between  January  1826 
and  January  1828,  he  had  realized  for  the  cred¬ 
itors  the  surprising  sum  of  nearly  forty  thousand 
pounds  ;  and  soon  after  his  death  the  principal 
of  the  whole  Ballantyne  debt  was  paid  up  by  his 
executors. 

We  have  now  briefly  to  describe  the  efforts  by 
which  this  result  was  accomplished.  After  spend¬ 
ing  at  Abbotsford,  in  1826,  a  solitary  summer, 
very  unlike  its  former  scenes  of  splendour,  Scott, 
returning  to  town  for  his  winter  duties,  and  com¬ 
pelled  to  leave  behind  him  his  dying  wife  (who 
survived  but  till  the  spring),  took  up  his  residence 
in  lodgings,  and  there  continued  that  system  of 
incessant  and  redoubled  labour  which  he  had  al¬ 
ready  maintained  for  months,  and  maintained 
afterwards  till  it  killed  him.  Woodstock,  pub¬ 
lished  in  1826,  had  been  written  during  the  crisis 
of  his  distresses ;  and  the  next  fruit  of  his  toil 
was  the  Life  of  Napoleon,  which,  commenced 
before  the  catastrophe,  appeared  in  1827,  and 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


xxix 


was  followed  by  the  First  Series  of  Chronicles  of 
the  Canongate ;  while  to  these  again  succeeded, 
in  the  end  of  the  same  year,  the  First  Series  of 
the  Tales  of  a  Grandfather.  The  year  1828  pro¬ 
duced  the  Second  Series  of  both  of  these  works  ; 
1829  gave  Anne  of  Geierstein,  the  first  volume 
of  a  History  of  Scotland  for  Lardner’s  Cyclopaedia, 
and  the  Third  Series  of  the  Tales  of  a  Grand¬ 
father.  The  same  year  also  witnessed  the  com¬ 
mencement  of  that  annotated  publication  of  the 
collected  novels,  which,  together  with  the  similar 
edition  of  the  poetical  works,  was  so  powerful  an 
instrument  in  effecting  Scott’s  purpose  of  pecuniary 
disentanglement.  In  1830  came  two  Dramas,  the 
Letters  on  Demonology,  the  Fourth  Series  of  the 
Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  and  the  second  volume  of 
the  History  of  Scotland.  If  we.  are  disappointed 
when  we  compare  most  of  these  works  with  the 
productions  of  younger  and  happier  days,  our 
criticism  will  be  disarmed  by  a  recollection  of  the 
honourable  end  which  the  later  works  promoted  ; 
and  as  to  the  last  productions  of  the  mighty  mas¬ 
ter,  the  volumes  of  1831,  containing  Count  Robert 
and  Castle  Dangerous,  no  one  who  is  acquainted 
with  the  melancholy  circumstances  under  which 
these  were  composed  and  published,  will  be 
capable  of  any  feeling  but  that  of  compassionate 
respect. 

The  dejection  which  it  was  impossible  for  Scott 
not  to  feel  in  commencing  his  self-imposed  task, 


XXX 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


was  materially  lightened,  and  his  health  invig¬ 
orated,  by  an  excursion  to  London  and  Paris  in 
the  course  of  1826,  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
materials  for  the  Life  of  Napoleon.  In  1829  alarm¬ 
ing  symptoms  appeared,  and  were  followed  by  a 
paralytic  attack  in  February,  1830,  after  which 
the  tokens  of  the  disease  were  always  more  or  less 
perceptible  to  his  family  ;  but  the  severity  of  his 
tasks  continued  unremitted,  although  in  that  year 
he  retired  from  his  clerkship,  and  took  up  his 
permanent  residence  at  Abbotsford.  The  mind 
was  now  but  too  evidently  shaken,  as  well  as  the 
body  ;  and  the  diary  which  he  kept,  contains, 
about  and  after  this  time,  melancholy  misgivings 
of  his  own  upon  this  subject.  In  April,  1831,  he 
had  the  most  severe  shock  of  his  disease  that  had 
yet  attacked  him  ;  and  having  been  at  length 
persuaded  to  abandon  literary  exertion,  he  left 
Abbotsford  in  September  of  that  year,  on  his  way 
to  the  Continent,  no  country  of  which  he  had 
ever  yet  visited,  except  some  parts  of  France  and 
Flanders.  This  new  tour  was  undertaken  with 
the  faint  hope  that  abstinence  from  mental  labour 
might  for  a  time  avert  the  impending  blow.  A 
ship  of  war,  furnished  for  the  purpose  by  the 
Admiralty,  conveyed  Sir  Walter,  first  to  Malta, 
and  then  to  Naples ;  and  the  accounts  which  we 
have,  both  of  the  voyage  and  of  his  residence  in 
Italy,  abound  with  circumstances  of  melancholy 
interest.  After  the  beginning  of  May,  1832,  his 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


XXXI 


mind  was  completely  overthrown ;  his  nervous 
impatience  forced  his  companions  to  hurry  him 
homeward  from  Rome  through  the  Tyrol  to 
Frankfort ;  in  June  they  arrived  in  London, 
whence  Sir  Walter  was  conveyed  by  sea  to  Edin¬ 
burgh  ;  and,  having  reached  Abbotsford  on  the 
11th  of  July,  he  there  continued  to  exist,  with 
few  intervals  of  consciousness,  till  the  afternoon 
of  the  21st  of  September,  when  he  expired,  hav¬ 
ing  just  completed  the  sixty-first  year  of  his  age. 
On  the  26th  he  was  buried  in  the  beautiful  ruins 
of  Dryburgh  Abbey. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Introduction  to  the  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel,  written  in  April,  1880,  was  revised  by 
the  Author  in  the  autumn  of  1831,  when  he  also 
made  some  corrections  in  the  text  of  the  poem, 
and  several  additions  to  the  notes.  The  work  is 
now  printed  from  his  interleaved  copy. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  original  MS. 
of  this  poem  has  not  been  preserved.  We  are 
thus  denied  the  advantage  of  comparing  through¬ 
out  the  Author’s  various  readings,  which  in  the 
case  of  Marmion,  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  the  Lord 
of  the  Isles,  &c.,  are  often  highly  curious  and 
instructive. — Lockhart. 


yol.  i. 


1 


INTRODUCTION 


TO  THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


INTRODUCTION 


TO  THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.1 


A  poem  of  nearly  thirty  years’  standing  may 
be  supposed  hardly  to  need  an  Introduction,  since, 
without  one,  it  has  been  able  to  keep  itself  afloat 
through  the  best  part  of  a  generation.  Never¬ 
theless,  as  in  the  edition  of  the  Waverley  Novels 
now  in  course  of  publication,  I  have  imposed  on 
myself  the  task  of  saying  something  concerning 
the  purpose  and  history  of  each,  in  their  turn,  I 
am  desirous  that  the  Poems  for  which  I  first 
received  some  marks  of  the  public  favour,  should 
also  he  accompanied  with  such  scraps  of  their  lit¬ 
erary  history  as  may  be  supposed  to  carry  inter- 


1  Published  in  4to.  (L.  1,  5s.)  1805. 


6 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


est  along  with  them.  Even  if  I  should  be  mis¬ 
taken  in  thinking  that  the  secret  history  of  what 
was  once  so  popular,  may  still  attract  public  atten¬ 
tion  and  curiosity,  it  seems  to  me  not  without  its 
use  to  record  the  manner  and  circumstances 
under  which  the  present,  and  other  Poems  on  the 
same  plan,  attained  for  a  season  an  extensive 
reputation. 

I  must  resume  the  story  of  my  literary  labours 
at  the  period  at  which  I  broke  off  in  the  Essay  on 
the  Imitation  of  Popular  Poetry  [see  Minstrelsy , 
iv.  p.  78],  when  I  had  enjoyed  the  first  gleam 
of  public  favour,  by  the  success  of  the  first  edition 
of  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border.  The 
second  edition  of  that  work,  published  in  1803, 
proved,  in  the  language  of  the  trade,  rather  a 
heavy  concern.1  The  demand  in  Scotland  had 
been  supplied  by  the  first  edition,  and  the  curios¬ 
ity  of  the  English  was  not  much  awakened  by 
poems  in  the  rude  garb  of  antiquity,  accompanied 
with  notes  referring  to  the  obscure  feuds  of  bar¬ 
barous  clans,  of  whose  very  names  civilized  his¬ 
tory  was  ignorant.  It  was,  on  the  whole,  one  of 
those  books  which  are  more  praised  than  they  are 
read. 

At  this  time  I  stood  personally  in  a  different 
position  from  that  which  I  occupied  when  I  first 

1  [“  The  ‘Lay’  is  the  best  of  all  possible  comments  on  the  Bor¬ 
der  Minstrelsy.” — British  Critic ,  August,  1805.] 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


7 


dipt  my  desperate  pen  in  ink  for  other  purposes 
than  those  of  my  profession.  In  1796,  when  I 
first  published  the  translations  from  Burger,  I  was 
an  insulated  individual,  with  only  my  own  wants 
to  provide  for,  and  having,  in  a  great  measure,  my 
own  inclinations  alone  to  consult.  In  1803,  when 
the  second  edition  of  the  Minstrelsy  appeared,  I 
had  arrived  at  a  period  of  life  when  men,  however 
thoughtless,  encounter  duties  and  circumstances 
which  press  consideration  and  plans  of  life  upon 
the  most  careless  minds.  I  had  been  for  some 
time  married — was  the  father  of  a  rising  family, 
and,  though  fully  enabled  to  meet  the  consequent 
demands  upon  me,  it  was  my  duty  and  desire  to 
place  myself  in  a  situation  which  would  enable 
me  to  make  honourable  provision  against  the  vari¬ 
ous  contingencies  of  life. 

It  may  be  readily  supposed  that  the  attempts 
which  I  had  made  in  literature  had  been  unfavour¬ 
able  to  my  success  at  the  bar.  The  goddess 
Themis  is  at  Edinburgh,  and  I  suppose  every¬ 
where  else;  of  a  peculiarly  jealous  disposition. 
She  will  not  readily  consent  to  share  her  author¬ 
ity,  and  sternly  demands  from  her  votaries,  not 
only  that  real  duty  be  carefully  attended  to,  and 
discharged,  but  that  a  certain  air  of  business  shall 
be  observed  even  in  the  midst  of  total  idleness. 
It  is  prudent,  if  not  absolutely  necessary,  in  a 
young  barrister,  to  appear  completely  engrossed 
by  his  profession  ;  however  destitute  of  employ- 


8 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


ment  lie  may  in  reality  be,  he  ought  to  preserve, 
if  possible,  the  appearance  of  full  occupation.  He 
should,  therefore,  seem  perpetually  engaged  among 
his  law-papers,  dusting  them,  as  it  were  ;  and,  as 
Ovid  advises  the  fair, 

“  Si  nulius  erit  pulvis,  tamen  excute  nullum.”  1 

Perhaps  such  extremity  of  attention  is  more  es¬ 
pecially  required,  considering  the  great  nnmber 
of  counsellors  who  are  called  to  the  bar,  and  how 
very  small  a  proportion  of  them  are  finally  dis¬ 
posed,  or  find  encouragement,  to  follow  the  law  as 
a  profession.  Hence  the  number  of  deserters  is 
so  great,  that  the  least  lingering  look  behind  occa¬ 
sions  a  young  novice  to  be  set  down  as  one  of  the 
intending  fugitives.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  Scot¬ 
tish  Themis  was  at  this  time  peculiarly  jealous  of 
any  fiirtation  with  the  Muses,  on  the  part  of  those 
who  had  ranged  themselves  under  her  banners. 
This  was  probably  owing  to  her  consciousness  of 
the  superior  attractions  of  her  rivals.  Of  late, 
however,  she  has  relaxed  in  some  instances  in  this 
particular,  an  eminent  example  of  which  has  been 
shown  in  the  case  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Jeffrey,  who, 
after  long  conducting  one  of  the  most  influential 
literary  periodicals  of  the  age,  with  unquestiona¬ 
ble  ability,  has  been,  by  the  general  consent  of  his 


1  [If  dust  be  none,  yet  brush  that  none  away.] 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


9 


brethren,  recently  elected  to  be  their  Dean  of 
Faculty,  or  President,  t — being  the  highest  ac¬ 
knowledgment  of  his  professional  talents  which 
they  had  it  in  their  power  to  offer.1  But  this  is 
an  incident  much  beyond  the  ideas  of  a  period  of 
thirty  years’  distance,  when  a  barrister  who  really 
possessed  any  turn  for  lighter  literature,  was  at 
as  much  pains  to  conceal  it,  as  if  it  had  in  reality 
been  something  to  be  ashamed  of ;  and  I  could 
mention  more  than  one  instance  in  which  litera¬ 
ture  and  society  have  suffered  much  loss,  that 
jurisprudence  might  be  enriched. 

Such,  however,  was  not  my  case ;  for  the 
reader  will  not  woilder  that  my  open  interference 
with  matters  of  light  literature  diminished  my 
employment  in  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law. 
Nor  did  the  solicitors,  upon  whose  choice  the 
counsel  takes  rank  in  his  profession,  do  me  less 
than  justice,  by  regarding  others  among  my  con¬ 
temporaries  as  fitter  to  discharge  the  duty  due  to 
their  clients,  than  a  young  man  who  was  taken 
up  with  running  after  ballads,  whether  Teutonic 
or  national.  My  profession  and  I,  therefore, 
came  to  stand  nearly  upon  the  footing  which  hon¬ 
est  Slender  consoled  himself  on  having  established 
with  Mistress  Anne  Page  :  “  There  was  no  great 
love  between  us  at  the  beginning,  and  it  pleased 

i  |' Mr.  Jeffrey,  after  conducting  the  Edinburgh  Review  for 
twenty-seven  years,  withdrew  from  that  office  in  1829,  on 
being  elected  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Advocates.  —  Ed.] 


10 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


Heaven  to  decrease  it  on  further  acquaintance.’’ 
I  became  sensible  that  the  time  was  come  when  I 
must  either  buckle  myself  resolutely  to  the  “  toil 
by  day,  the  lamp  by  night/’  renouncing  all  the 
Delilahs  of  my  imagination,  or  bid  adieu  to  the 
profession  of  the  law,  and  hold  another  course. 

I  confess  my  own  inclination  revolted  from 
the  more  severe  choice,  which  might  have  been 
deemed  by  many  the  wiser  alternative.  As  my 
transgressions  had  been  numerous,  my  repentance 
must  have  been  signalized  by  unusual  sacrifices. 
I  ought  to  have  mentioned,  that  since  my  four¬ 
teenth  or  fifteenth  year,  my  health,  originally 
delicate,  had  become  extremely  robust.  From 
infancy  I  had  laboured  under  the  infirmity  of  a 
severe  lameness,  but,  as  I  believe  is  usually  the 
case  with  men  of  spirit  who  suffer  under  personal 
inconveniences  of  this  nature,  I  had,  since  the 
improvement  of  my  health,  in  defiance  of  this 
incapacitating  circumstance,  distinguished  myself 
by  the  endurance  of  toil  on  foot  or  horseback, 
having  often  walked  thirty  miles  a  day,  and  rode 
upwards  of  a  hundred,  without  resting.  In  this 
manner  I  made  many  pleasant  journeys  through 
parts  of  the  country  then  not  very  accessible, 
grain i no;  more  amusement  and  instruction  than  I 
have  been  able  to  acquire  since  I  have  travelled 
in  a  more  commodious  manner.  I  practised  most 
sylvan  sports  also,  with  some  success,  and  with 
great  delight.  But  these  pleasures  must  have 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


11 


been  all  resigned,  or  used  with  great  moderation, 
had  I  determined  to  regain  my  station  at  the  bar. 
It  was  even  doubtful  whether  I  could,  with  per¬ 
fect  character  as  a  jurisconsult,  retain  a  situation 
in  a  volunteer  corps  of  cavalry  which  I  then  held. 
The  threats  of  invasion  were  at  this  time  instant 
and  menacing ;  the  call  by  Britain  on  her  children 
was  universal,  and  was  answered  by  some,  who, 
like  myself,  consulted  rather  their  desire  than 
their  ability  to  bear  arms.  My  services,  how¬ 
ever,  were  found  useful  in  assisting  to  maintain 
the  discipline  of  the  corps,  being  the  point  on 
which  their  constitution  rendered  them  most 
amenable  to  military  criticism.  In  other  respects, 
the  squadron  was  a  fine  one,  consisting  chiefly  of 
handsome  men,  well  mounted  and  armed  at  their 
own  expense.  My  attention  to  the  corps  took  up 
a  good  deal  of  time  ;  and  while  it  occupied  many 
of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life,  it  furnished  an 
additional  reason  for  my  reluctance  again  to  en¬ 
counter  the  severe  course  of  study  indispensable 
to  success  in  the  juridical  profession. 

On  the  other  hand,  my  father,  whose  feelings 
might  have  been  hurt  by  my  quitting  the  bar,  had 
been  for  two  or  three  years  dead,  so  that  I  had 
no  control  to  thwart  my  own  inclination  ;  and  my 
income  being  equal  to  all  the  comforts,  and  some 
of  the  elegances,  of  life,  I  was  not  pressed  to  an 
irksome  labour  by  necessity,  that  most  powerful 
of  motives ;  consequently,  I  was  the  more  easily 


12 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


seduced  to  choose  the  employment  which  was 
most  agreeable  to  me.  This  was  yet  the  easier, 
that  in  1800  I  had  obtained  the  preferment  of 
Sheriff  of  Selkirkshire,  about  £300  a  year  in 
value,  and  which  was  the  more  agreeable  to  me, 
as  in  that  county  I  had  several  friends  and  rela¬ 
tions.  But  I  did  not  abandon  the  profession  to 
which  I  had  been  educated,  without  certain  pru¬ 
dential  resolutions,  which,  at  the  risk  of  some 
egotism,  I  will  here  mention ;  not  without  the 
hope  that  they  may  be  useful  to  young  persons 
who  may  stand  in  circumstances  similar  to  those 
in  which  I  then  stood. 

In  the  first  place,  upon  considering  the  lives 
and  fortunes  of  persons  who  had  given  them¬ 
selves  up  to  literature,  or  to  the  task  of  pleasing 
the  public,  it  seemed  to  me,  that  the  circum¬ 
stances  which  chiefly  affected  their  happiness  and 
character,  were  those  from  which  Horace  has 
bestowed  upon  authors  the  epithet  of  the  Irrita¬ 
ble  Race.  It  requires  no  depth  of  philosophic 
reflection  to  perceive,  that  the  petty  warfare  of 
Pope  with  the  Dunces  of  his  period  could  not 
have  been  carried  on  without  his  suffering  the 
most  acute  torture,  such  as  a  man  must  endure 
from  mosquitos,  by  whose  stings  he  suffers  ag¬ 
ony,  although  he  can  crush  them  in  his  grasp 
by  myriads.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  call  to  mem¬ 
ory  the  many  humiliating  instances  in  which  men 
of  the  greatest  genius  have,  to  avenge  some  piti- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


13 


ful  quarrel,  made  tliemselves  ridiculous  during 
their  lives,  to  become  the  still  more  degraded  ob¬ 
jects  of  pity  to  future  times. 

Upon  the  whole,  as  I  had  no  pretension  to  the 
genius  of  the  distinguished  persons  who  had  fallen 
into  such  errors,  I  concluded  there  could  be  no 
occasion  for  imitating  them  in  their  mistakes,  or 
what  I  considered  as  such ;  and,  in  adopting  liter¬ 
ary  pursuits  as  the  principal  occupation  of  my 
future  life,  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  avoid  those 
weaknesses  of  temper  which  seemed  to  have 
most  easily  beset  my  more  celebrated  prede¬ 
cessors. 

With  this  view,  it  was  my  first  resolution  to 
keep  as  far  as  was  in  my  power  abreast  of  so¬ 
ciety,  continuing  to  maintain  my  place  in  general 
company,  without  yielding  to  the  very  natural 
temptation  of  narrowing  myself  to  what  is  called 
literary  society.  By  doing  so,  I  imagined  I 
should  escape  the  besetting  sin  of  listening,  to 
language,  which,  from  one  motive  or  other,  is  apt 
to  ascribe  a  very  undue  degree  of  consequence  to 
literary  pursuits,  as  if  they  were,  indeed,  the  busi¬ 
ness,  rather  than  the  amusement,  of  life.  The 
opposite  course  can  only  be  compared  to  the  inju¬ 
dicious  conduct  of  one  who  pampers  himself  with 
cordial  and  luscious  draughts,  until  he  is  unable 
to  endure  wholesome  bitters.  Like  Gil  Bias, 
therefore'  I  resolved  to  stick  by  the  society  of  my 
commis ,  instead  of  seeking  that  of  a  more  literary 


14 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


cast,  and  to  maintain  my  general  interest  in  what 
was  going  on  around  me,  reserving  the  man  of 
letters  for  the  desk  and  the  library. 

My  second  resolution  was  a  corollary  from  the 
first.  I  determined  that,  without  shutting  my 
ears  to  the  voice  of  true  criticism,  I  would  pay 
no  regard  to  that  which  assumes  the  form  of 
satire.  I  therefore  resolved  to  arm  myself  with 
that  triple  brass  of  Horace,  of  which  those  of  my 
profession  are  seldom  held  deficient,  against  all 
the  roving  warfare  of  satire,  parody,  and  sarcasm  ; 
to  laugh  if  the  jest  was  a  good  one  ;  or,  if  other¬ 
wise,  to  let  it  hum  and  buzz  itself  to  sleep. 

It  is  to  the  observance  of  these  rules,  (accord¬ 
ing  to  my  best  belief,)  that,  after  a  life  of  thirty 
years  engaged  in  literary  labours  of  various  kinds, 

I  attribute  my  never  having  been  entangled  in 

• 

any  literary  quarrel  or  controversy  ;  and,  which 
is  a  still  more  pleasing  result,  that  I  have  been 
distinguished  by  the  personal  friendship  of  my 
most  approved  contemporaries  of  all  parties. 

I  adopted,  at  the  same  time,  another  resolu¬ 
tion,  on  which  it  may  doubtless  be  remarked, 
that  it  was  well  for  me  that  I  had  it  in  my  power 
to  do  so,  and  that,  therefore,  it  is  a  line  of  con¬ 
duct  which,  depending  upon  accident,  can  be  less 
generally  applicable  in  other  cases.  Yet  I  fail 
not  to  record  this  part  of  my  plan,  convinced  that, 
though  it  may  not  be  in  every  one’s  power  to 
adopt  exactly  the  same  resolution,  lie  may  never- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


15 


theless,  by  bis  own  exertions,  in  some  shape  or 
other,  attain  the  object  on  which  it  was  founded, 
namely,  to  secure  the  means  of  subsistence,  with¬ 
out  relying  exclusively  on  literary  talents.  In 
this  respect,  I  determined  that  literature  should 
be  my  staff,  but  not  my  crutch,  and  that  the 
profits  of  my  literary  labour,  however  convenient 
otherwise,  should  not,  if  I  could  help  it,  become 
necessary  to  my  ordinary  expenses.  With  this 
purpose  I  resolved,  if  the  interest  of  my  friends 
could  so  far  favour  me,  to  retire  upon  any  ot  the 
respectable  offices  of  the  law,  in  which  persons  of 
that  profession  are  glad  to  take  refuge,  when  they 
feel  themselves,  or  are  judged  by  others,  incom¬ 
petent  to  aspire  to  its  higher  honours.  Upon 
such  a  post  an  author  might  hope  to  retreat,  with¬ 
out  any  perceptible  alteration  of  circumstances, 
whenever  the  time  should  arrive  that  the  public 
grew  weary  of  his  endeavours  to  please,  or  he 
himself  should  tire  of  the  pen.  At  this  period  of 
my  life,  I  possessed  so  many  friends  capable  of 
assisting  me  in  this  object  of  ambition,  that  I 
could  hardly  overrate  my  own  prospects  of  ob¬ 
taining  the  preferment  to  which  I  limited  my 
wishes  ;  and,  in  fact,  I  obtained,  in  no  long  period, 
the  reversion  of  a  situation  which  completely  met 
them. 

Thus  far  all  was  well,  and  the  Author  had  been 
guilty,  perhaps,  of  no  great  imprudence,  when  he 
relinquished  his  forensic  practice  with  the  hope 


16 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


of  making  some  figure  in  the  field  of  literature. 
But  an  established  character  with  the  public,  in 
my  new  capacity,  still  remained  to  be  acquired. 
I  have  noticed,  that  the  translations  from  Burger 
had  been  unsuccessful,  nor  had  the  original  poe¬ 
try  which  appeared  under  the  auspices  of  Mr. 
Lewis,  in  the  “Tales  of  Wonder,”  in  any  great 
degree  raised  my  reputation.  It  is  true,  I  had 
private  friends  disposed  to  second  me  in  my 
efforts  to  obtain  popularity.  But  I  was  sports¬ 
man  enough  to  know,  that  if  the  greyhound  does 
not  run  well,  the  lialloos  of  his  patrons  will  not 
obtain  the  prize  for  him. 

Neither  was  I  ignorant  that  the  practice  of 
ballad-writing  was  for  the  present  out  of  fashion, 
and  that  any  attempt  to  revive  it,  or  to  found  a 
poetical  character  upon  it,  would  certainly  fail  of 
success.  The  ballad-measure  itself,  which  was 
once  listened  to  as  an  enchanting  melody,  had  be¬ 
come  hackneyed  and  sickening,  from  its  being  the 
accompaniment  of  every  grinding  hand-organ ; 
and  besides,  a  long  work  in  quatrains,  whether 
those  of  the  common  ballad,  or  such  as  are 
termed  elegiac,  has  an  effect  upon  the  mind  like 
that  of  the  bed  of  Procrustes  upon  the  human 
body  ;  for,  as  it  must  be  both  awkward  and  diffi¬ 
cult  to  carry  on  a  long  sentence  from  one  stanza 
to  another,  it  follows,  that  the  meaning  of  each 
period  must  be  comprehended  within  four  lines, 
and  equally  so  that  it  must  be  extended  so  as  to 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


17 


fill  that  space.  The  alternate  dilation  and  con 
traction  thus  rendered  necessary  is  singularly 
unfavourable  to  narrative  composition  ;  and  the 
“  Gondibert  ”  of  Sir  William  D’Avenant,  though 
containing  many  striking  passages,  has  never  be¬ 
come  popular,  owing  chiefly  to  its  being  told  in 
this  species  of  elegiac  verse. 

In  the  dilemma  occasioned  by  this  objection, 
the  idea  occurred  to  the  Author  of  using  the 
measured  short  line,  which  forms  the  structure  of 
so  much  minstrel  poetry,  that  it  may  be  properly 
termed  the  Romantic  stanza,  by  way  of  distinc¬ 
tion  ;  and  which  appears  so  natural  to  our  lan¬ 
guage,  that  the  very  best  of  our  poets  have  not 
been  able  to  protract  it  into  the  verse  properly 
called  Heroic,  without  the  use  of  epithets  which 
are,  to  say  the  least,  unnecessary.1  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  extreme  facility  of  the  short  coup¬ 
let,  which  seems  congenial  to  our  language,  and 
was,  doubtless  for  that  reason,  so  popular  with  our 
old  minstrels,  is,  for  the  same  reason,  apt  to  prove 

1  Thus  it  has  been  often  remarked,  that,  in  the  opening 
couplets  of  Pope’s  translation  of  the  Iliad,  there  are  two  sylla¬ 
bles  forming  a  superfluous  word  in  each  line,  as  may  be  ob¬ 
served  by  attending  to  such  words  as  are  printed  in  Italics. 

“  Achilles’  wrath  to  Greece  the  direful  spring 
Of  woes  unnumber’d,  heavenly  goddess,  sing; 

That  wrath  which  sent  to  Pluto’s  gloomy  reign, 

The  souls  of  mighty  chiefs  in  battle  slain, 

Whose  bones,  unburied  on  the  desert  shore, 

Devouring  dogs  and  hungry  vultures  tore.” 

VOL.  I.  2 


18 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


a  snare  to  the  composer  who  uses  it  in  more  mod¬ 
ern  days,  by  encouraging  him  in  a  habit  of  slovenly 
composition.  The  necessity  of  occasional  pauses 
often  forces  the  young  poet  to  pay  more  attention 
to  sense,  as  the  boy’s  kite  rises  highest  when  the 
train  is  loaded  by  a  due  counterpoise.  The  Author 
was  therefore  intimidated  by  what  Byron  calls  the 
“  fatal  facility  ”  of  the  octo-syllabic  verse,  which 
was  otherwise  better  adapted  to  his  purpose  of 
imitating  the  more  ancient  poetry. 

I  was  not  less  at  a  loss  for  a  subject  which 
might  admit  of  being  treated  with  the  simplicity 
and  wildness  of  the  ancient  ballad.  But  accident 
dictated  both  a  theme  and  measure  which  decided 
the  subject  as  well  as  the  structure  of  the  poem. 

The  lovely  young  Countess  of  Dalkeith,  after¬ 
wards  Harriet,  Duchess  of  Buccleuch,  had  come 
to  the  land  of  her  husband  with  the  desire  of 
making  herself  acquainted  with  its  traditions  and 
customs,  as  well  as  its  manners  and  history.  All 
who-  remember  this  lady  will  agree,  that  the  in¬ 
tellectual  character  of  her  extreme  beauty,  the 
amenity  and  courtesy  of  her  manners,  the  sound¬ 
ness  of  her  understanding,  and  her  unbounded 
benevolence,  gave  more  the  idea  of  an  angelic  visi¬ 
tant,  than  of  a  being  belonging  to  this  nether  world  ; 
and  such  a  thought  was  but  too  consistent  with  the 
short  space  she  was  permitted  to  tarry  among  us.1 

1  [The  Duchess  died  in  August,  1814.  Sir  Walter  Scott’s 
lines  on  her  death  will  be  found  in  a  subsequent  volume  of 
this  Collection. — Ed.] 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


19 


Of  course,  where  all  made  it  a  pride  and  pleas¬ 
ure  to  gratify  her  wishes,  she  soon  heard  enough 
of  Border  lore ;  among  others,  an  aged  gentle¬ 
man  of  property,1  near  Langholm,  communicated 
to  her  ladyship  the  story  of  Gilpin  Horner,  a 
tradition  in  which  the  narrator,  and  many  more 
of  that  country,  were  firm  believers.  The  young 
Countess,  much  delighted  with  the  legend,  and  the 
gravity  and  full  confidence  with  which  it  was  told, 
enjoined  on  me  as  a  task  to  compose  a  ballad  on 
the  subject.  Of  course,  to  hear  was  to  obey  ;  and 
thus  the  goblin  story  objected  to  by  several  critics 
as  an  excrescence  upon  the  poem,  was,  in  fact, 
the  occasion  of  its  being  written. 

A  chance  similar  to  that  which  dictated  the 
subject,  gave  me  also  the  hint  of  a  new  mode  of 
treating  it.  We  had  at  that  time  the  lease  of  a 
pleasant  cottage,  near  Lasswade,  on  the  romantic 
banks  of  the  Esk,  to  which  we  escaped  when  the 


i  This  was  Mi*.  Beattie  of  Mickledale,  a  man  then  consid¬ 
erably  upwards  of  eighty,  of  a  shrewd  and  sarcastic  temper, 
which  he  did  not  at  all  times  suppress,  as  the  following  anec¬ 
dote  will  show:  A  worthy  clergyman,  now  deceased,  with 
better  good-will  than  tact,  was  endeavouring  to  push  the  senior 
forward  in  his  recollection  of  Border  ballads  and  legends,  by 
expressing  reiterated  surprise  at  his  wonderful  memory.  “  No, 
sir,”  said  old  Mickledale;  “  my  memory  is  good  for  little,  for 
it  cannot  retain  what  ought  to  be  preserved.  I  can  remem¬ 
ber  all  these  stories  about  the  auld  riding  days,  which  are  of 
no  earthly  importance;  but  were  you,  reverend  sir,  to  repeat 
your  best  sermon  in  this  drawing-room,  I  could  not  tell  you 
half  an  hour  afterwards  what  you  had  been  speaking  about.” 


20 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


vacations  of  tlie  Court  permitted  me  so  much 
leisure.  Here  I  had  the  pleasure  to  receive  a 
visit  from  Mr.  Stoddart,  (now  Sir  John  Stoddart, 
Judge- Advocate  at  Malta,)  who  was  at  that  time 
collecting  the  particulars  which  he  afterwards  em¬ 
bodied  in  his  remarks  on  Local  Scenery  in  Scot¬ 
land.1  I  was  of  some  use  to  him  in  procuring  the 
information  which  he  desired,  and  guiding  him  to 
the  scenes  which  he  wished  to  see.  In  return,  he 
made  me  better  acquainted  than  I  had  hitherto 
been  with  the  poetic  effusions  which  have  since 
made  the  Lakes  of  Westmoreland,  and  the  au¬ 
thors  by  whom  they  have  been  sung,  so  famous 
wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken. 

I  was  already  acquainted  with  the  “  Joan  of 
Arc,”  the  “  Thalaba,”  and  the  “  Metrical  Ballads  ” 
of  Mr.  Southey,  which  had  found  their  way  to 
Scotland,  and  were  generally  admired.  But  Mr. 
Stoddart,  who  had  the  advantage  of  personal 
friendship  with  the  authors,  and  who  possessed  a 
strong  memory  with  an  excellent  taste,  was  able 
to  repeat  to  me  many  long  specimens  of  their 
poetry,  which  had  not  yet  appeared  in  print. 
Amongst  others,  was  the  striking  fragment  called 
Christabel,  by  Mr.  Coleridge,  which,  from  the 
singularly  irregular  structure  of  the  stanzas,  and 
the  liberty  which  it  allowed  the  author  to  adapt 
the  sound  to  the  sense,  seemed  to  be  exactly  suited 
to  such  an  extravaganza  as  I  meditated  on  the 

1  Two  volumes,  royal  octavo.  1801. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  21 

subject  of  Gilpin  Horner.  As  applied  to  comic 
and  humorous  poetry,  this  mescolanza  of  meas¬ 
ures  had  been  already  used  by  Anthony  Hall, 
Anstey,  Dr.  Wolcott,  and  others  ;  but  it  was  in 
Christabel  that  I  first  found  it  used  in  serious 
poetry,  and  it  is  to  Mr.  Coleridge  that  I  am  bound 
to  make  the  acknowledgment  due  from  the  pupil 
to  his  master.  I  observe  that  Lord  Byron,  in  no¬ 
ticing  my  obligations  to  Mr.  Coleridge,  which  I 
have  been  always  most  ready  to  acknowledge, 
expressed,  or  was  understood  to  express,  a  hope, 
that  I  did  not  write  an  unfriendly  review  on  Mr. 
Coleridge’s  productions.1  On  this  subject  I  have 
only  to  say,  that  I  do  not  even  know  the  review 
which  is  alluded  to  ;  and  were  I  ever  to  take  the 
unbecoming  freedom  of  censuring  a  man  of  Mr. 
Coleridge’s  extraordinary  talents,  it  would  be  on 
account  of  the  caprice  and  indolence  with  which 
he  has  thrown  from  him,  as  if  in  mere  wanton¬ 
ness,  those  unfinished  scraps  of  poetry,  which,  like 
the  Torso  of  antiquity,  defy  the  skill  of  his  poet¬ 
ical  brethren  to  complete  them.2  The  charming 

1  Medwin’s  Conversations  of  Lord  Byron,  p.  309. 

2  [Sir  Walter,  elsewhere,  in  allusion  to  “  Coleridge’s  beau¬ 
tiful  and  tantalizing  fragment  of  Christabel,”  says:  “  Has  not 
our  own  imaginative  poet  cause  to  fear  that  future  ages  will 
desire  to  summon  him  from  his  place  of  rest,  as  Milton 
longed 

‘  To  call  up  him  who  left  half  told 
The  story  of  Cambuscan  bold?  ’  ” 

Notes  to  the  Abbot. J 


22 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


fragments  which  the  author  abandons  to  their  fate, 

© 

are  surely  too  valuable  to  he  treated  like  the  proofs 
of  careless  engravers,  the  sweepings  of  whose  stu¬ 
dios  often  make  the  fortune  of  some  painstaking 
collector. 

I  did  not  immediately  proceed  upon  my  pro¬ 
jected  labour,  though  I  was  now  furnished  with  a 
subject,  and  with  a  structure  of  verse  which  might 
have  the  effect  of  novelty  to  the  public  ear,  and 
afford  the  author  an  opportunity  of  varying  his 
measure  with  the  variations  of  a  romantic  theme. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was,  to  the  best  of  my  recollec¬ 
tion,  more  than  a  year  after  Mr.  Stoddart’s  visit, 
that,  by  way  of  experiment,  I  composed  the  first 
two  or  three  stanzas  of  “  The  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel.”  I  was  shortly  afterwards  visited  by 
two  intimate  friends,  one  of  whom  still  survives. 
They  were  men  whose  talents  might  have  raised 
them  to  the  highest  station  in  literature,  had  they 
not  preferred  exerting  them  in  their  own  profes¬ 
sion  of  the  law,  in  which  they  attained  equal  pre¬ 
ferment.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting  them  on 
my  attempts  at  composition,  having  equal  confi¬ 
dence  in  their  sound  taste  and  friendly  sincerity.1 

1  One  of  these,  William  Erskine,  Esq.  (Lord  Kinnedder,)  I 
have  often  had  occasion  to  mention,  and  though  I  may  hard¬ 
ly  be  thanked  for  disclosing  the  name  of  the  other,  yet  I  can¬ 
not  but  state  that  the  second  is  George  Cranstoun,  Esq.,  now 
a  Senator  of  the  College  of  Justice  by  the  title  of  Lord  Core¬ 
house.  1831. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


23 


In  this  specimen  I  had,  in  the  phrase  of  the  High- 

land  servant,  packed  all  that  was  my  own  at  least , 
» 

for  I  had  also  included  a  line  of  invocation,  a  lit¬ 
tle  softened,  from  Coleridge  — 


“  Mary,  mother,  shield  us  well.” 

As  neither  of  my  friends  said  much  to  me  on 
the  subject,  of  the  stanzas  I  showed  them  before 
their  departure,  I  had  no  doubt  that  their  disgust 
had  been  greater  than  their  good-nature  chose  to 
express.  Looking  upon  them,  therefore,  as  a 
failure,  I  threw  the  manuscript  into  the  fire,  and 
thought  as  little  more  as  I  could  of  the  matter. 
Some  time  afterwards  I  met  one  of  my  two  coun¬ 
sellors,  who  inquired,  with  considerable  appear¬ 
ance  of  interest,  about  the  progress  of  the  ro¬ 
mance  I  had  commenced,  and  was  greatly  sur-  . 
prised  at  learning  its  fate.  He  confessed  that 
neither  he  nor  our  mutual  friend  had  been  at  first 
able  to  give  a  precise  opinion  on  a  poem  so  much 
out  of  the  common  road,  but  that  as  they  walked 
home  together  to  the  city,  they  had  talked  much 
on  the  subject,  and  the  result  was  an  earnest  de¬ 
sire  that  I  would  proceed  with  the  composition. 
He  also  added,  that  some  sort  of  prologue  might 
be  necessary,  to  place  the  mind  of  the  hearers  in 
the  situation  to  understand  and  enjoy  the  poem, 
and  recommended  the  adoption  of  such  quaint 
mottos  as  Spenser  has  used  to  announce  the  con- 


24 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 


tents  of  the  chapters  of  the  Faery  Queen,  such 
as — 

“  Babe’s  bloody  hands  may  not  be  cleansed, 

The  face  of  golden  Mean : 

Her  sisters  two,  Extremities, 

Her  strive  to  banish  clean.” 

I  entirely  agreed  with  my  friendly  critic  in  the 
necessity  of  having  some  sort  of  pitch-pipe,  which 
might  make  readers  aware  of  the  object,  or  rather 
the  tone,  of  the  publication.  But  I  doubted 
whether,  in  assuming  the  oracular  style  of  Spen¬ 
ser’s  mottos,  the  interpreter  might  not  be  cen¬ 
sured  as  the  harder  to  be  understood  of  the  two. 
I  therefore  introduced  the  Old  Minstrel,  as  an 
appropriate  prolocutor,  by  whom  the  lay  might 
be  sung,  or  spoken,  and  the  introduction  of  whom 
betwixt  the  cantos,  might  remind  the  reader,  at 
intervals,  of  the  time,  place,  and  circumstances  of 
the  recitation.  This  species  of  cadre ,  or  frame, 
afterwards  afforded  the  poem  its  name  of  “  The 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.” 

The  work  was  subsequently  shown  to  other 
friends  during  its  progress,  and  received  the 
imprimatur  of  Mr.  Francis  Jeffrey,  who  had  been 
already  for  some  time  distinguished  by  his  criti¬ 
cal  talent. 

The  poem,  being  once  licensed  by  the  critics 
as  fit  for  the  market,  was  soon  finished,  proceed¬ 
ing  at  about  the  rate  of  a  canto  per  week.  There 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


25 


was,  indeed,  little  occasion  for  pause  or  hesitation, 
when  a  troublesome  rhyme  might  be  accommo¬ 
dated  by  an  alteration  of  the  stanza,  or  where  an 
incorrect  measure  might  be  remedied  by  a  varia¬ 
tion  in  the  rhyme.  It  was  finally  published  in 
1805,  and  may  be  regarded  as  the  first  work  in 
which  the  writer,  who  has  been  since  so  volumi¬ 
nous,  laid  his  claim  to  be  considered  as  an  original 
author. 

The  book  was  published  by  Longman  and 
Company,  and  Archibald  Constable  and  Com¬ 
pany.  The  principal  of  the  latter  firm  was  then 
commencing  that  course  of  bold  and  liberal  in¬ 
dustry  which  was  of  so  much  advantage  to  his 
country,  and  might  have  been  so  to  himself,  but 
for  causes  which  it  is  needless  to  enter  into  here. 
The  work,  brought  out  on  the  usual  terms  of 
division  of  profits  between  the  author  and  pub¬ 
lishers,  was  not  long  after  purchased  by  them  for 
£500,  to  which  Messrs.  Longman  and  Company 
afterwards  added  £100,  in  their  own  unsolicited 
kindness,  in  consequence  of  the  uncommon  suc¬ 
cess  of  the  work.  It  was  handsomely  given  to 
supply  the  loss  of  a  fine  horse,  which  broke  down 
suddenly  while  the  author  was  riding  with  one  of 
the  worthy  publishers.1 

It  would  be  great  affectation  not  to  own  frankly, 
that  the  Author  expected  some  success  from  “  The 

f1  Mx\  Owen  Rees.  —  Ed.] 


26  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

• 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.”  The  attempt  to  re¬ 
turn  to  a  more  simple  and  natural  style  of  poetry 
was  likely  to  be  welcomed,  at  a  time  when  the 
public  had  become  tired  of  heroic  hexameters, 
with  all  the  buckram  and  binding  which  belong 
to  them  of  later  days.  But  whatever  might  have 
been  his  expectations,  whether  moderate  or  un¬ 
reasonable,  the  result  left  them  far  behind,  for 
among  those  who  smiled  on  the  adventurous 
Minstrel,  were  numbered  the  great  names  of 
William  Pitt  and  Charles  Fox.  Neither  was  the 
extent  of  the  sale  inferior  to  the  character  of  the 
judges  who  received  the  poem  with  approbation. 
Upwards  of  thirty  thousand  copies  of  the  Lay 
were  disposed  of  by  the  trade  ;  and  the  Author 
had  to  perform  a  task  difficult  to  human  vanity, 
when  called  upon  to  make  the  necessary  deduc¬ 
tions  from  his  own  merits,  in  a  calm  attempt  to 
account  for  his  popularity. 

A  few  additional  remarks  on  the  Author’s  liter¬ 
ary  attempts  after  this  period,  will  be  found  in 
the  Introduction  to  the  Poem  of  Marmion. 


Abbotsford,  April ,  1830. 


RIGHT  HONOURABLE 


CHARLES 

EARL  OF  DALKEITH 


THIS  POEM  IS  INSCRIBED 


BY 


THE  AUTHOR. 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

A  POEM; 


IN  SIX  CANTOS. 


Dam  relego ,  scnpsisse  pudet ;  quia  qdurirna  cerno, 
Me  quoque,  qui  J'eci,judice,  digna  Uni. 


The  Poem,  now  offered  to  the  Public ,  is  intended  to 
illustrate  the  customs  and  manners,  which  anciently  pre¬ 
vailed  on  the  Borders  of  England  and  Scotland.  The 
inhabitants,  living  in  a  state  partly  pastoral,  and  partly 
warlike,  and  combining  habits  of  constant  depredation 
with  the  influence  of  a  rude  spirit  of  chivalry,  were 
often  engaged  in  scenes,  highly  susceptible  of  poetical 
ornament.  As  the  description  of  scenery  and  manners 
was  more  the  object  of  the  Author  than  a  combined  and 
regular  narrative,  the  plan  of  the  Ancient  Metrical  Ro¬ 
mance  was  adopted ,  which  alloivs  greater  latitude,  in 
this  respect,  than  would  be  consistent  with  the  dignity  of 
a  regular  Poem ?  The  same  model  oflered  other  facili- 

1  [“  The  chief  excellence  of  ‘  The  Lay  ’  consists  in  the 
beauty  of  the  descriptions  of  local  scenery,  and  the  accurate 
picture  of  customs  and  manners  among  the  Scottish  Border¬ 
ers  at  the  time  it  refers  to.  The  various  exploits  and  adven¬ 
tures  which  occur  in  those  half-civilized  times,  when  the 
bands  of  government  were  so  loosely  twisted,  that  every  man 
depended  for  safety  more  on  his  own  arm,  or  the  prowess  of 
his  chief,  than  on  the  civil  power,  may  be  said  to  hold  a  mid¬ 
dle  rank  between  history  and  private  anecdote.  War  is  al¬ 
ways  most  picturesque  where  it  is  least  formed  into  a  science; 


[  32  ] 


ties ,  as  it  permits  an  occasional  alteration  of  measure , 
which ,  in  some  degree ,  authorizes  the  change  of  rhythm 
in  the  text }  The  machinery  also,  adopted  from  popular 

it  has  most  variety  and  interest  where  the  prowess  and  activ¬ 
ity  of  individuals  has  most  play;  and  the  nocturnal  expedi- 
.  tion  of  Diomed  and  Ulysses  to  seize  the  chariot  and  horses 
of  Rhesus,  or  a  raid  of  the  Scotts  or  the  Kerrs  to  drive  cattle, 
will  make  a  better  figure  in  verse,  than  all  the  battles  of  the 
great  King  of  Prussia.  The  sleuth-dog ,  the  beacon-fres,  the 
Jedwood-axes,  the  moss-troopers ,  the  yell  of  the  slogan ,  and  all 
the  irregular  warfare  of  predatory  expeditions,  or  feuds  of 
hereditary  vengeance,  are  far  more  captivating  to  the  imagi¬ 
nation  than  a  park  of  artillery  and  battalions  of  well-drilled 
soldiers.” — Annual  Review ,  1804.] 

1  [“  It  must  be  observed,  that  there  is  this  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  license  of  the  old  romancer,  and  that  assumed  by 
Mr.  Scott;  the  aberrations  of  the  first  are  usually  casual  and 
slight  ;  those  of  the  other  premeditated  and  systematic.  The 
old  romancer  may  be  compared  to  a  man  who  trusts  his 
reins  to  his  horse;  his  palfrey  often  blunders,  and  occasion¬ 
ally  breaks  his  pace,  sometimes  from  vivacity,  oftener 
through  indolence.  Mr.  Scott  sets  out,  with  the  intention  of 
diversifying  his  journey,  by  every  variety  of  motion.  He  is 
now  at  a  trot,  now  at  a  gallop ;  nay,  he  sometimes  stops,  as 
if  to 


‘  Make  graceful  caprioles,  and  prance 
Between  the  pillars.’ 

A  main  objection  to  this  plan  is  to  be  found  in  the  shock 
which  the  ear  receives  from  violent  and  abrupt  transitions. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  allowed,  that  as  different  spe¬ 
cies  of  verse  are  individually  better  suited  to  the  expression 
of  the  different  ideas,  sentiments,  and  passions,  which  it  is 
the  object  of  poetry  to  convey,  the  happiest  efforts  may  be 
produced  by  adapting  to  the  subject  its  most  congenial  struc¬ 
ture  of  verse.”  —  Critical  Review ,  1805. 


[  33  ] 


belief  \  would  have  seemed  puerile  in  a  Poem ,  which  did 
not  partake  of  the  rudeness  of  the  old  Ballad ',  or  Met¬ 
rical  Romance. 

For  these  reasons,  the  Poem  icas  put  into  the  mouth 
of  an  ancient  Minstrel,  the  last  of  the  race,  who,  as  he 
is  supposed  to  have  survived  the  Revolution,  might  have 
caught  someivhat  of  the  refinement  of  modern  poetry, 
without  losing  the  simplicity  of  his  original  model.  The 
date  of  the  Tale  itself  is  about  the  middle  of  the  six¬ 
teenth  century,  when  most  of  the  personages  actually 
flourished.  The  time  occupied  by  the  action  is  Three 
Nights  and  Three  Days} 

“  From  the  novelty  of  its  style  and  subject,  and  from  the 
spirit  of  its  execution,  Mr.  Scott’s  4  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel’ 
kindled  a  sort  of  enthusiasm  among  all  classes  of  readers ; 
and  the  concurrent  voice  of  the  public  assigned  to  it  a  very 
exalted  rank,  which,  on  more  cool  and  dispassionate  exam¬ 
ination,  its  numerous  essential  beauties  will  enable  it  to 
maintain.  For  vivid  richness  of  colouring  and  truth  of  cos¬ 
tume,  many  of  its  descriptive  pictures  stand  almost  unrivalled ; 
it  carries  us  back  in  imagination  to  the  time  of  action;  and 
we  wander  with  the  poet  along  Tweedside,  or  among  the 
wild  glades  of  Ettricke  Forest”  —  Monthly  Review,  May, 
1808.] 

1  [“  We  consider  this  poem  as  an  attempt  to  transfer  the 
refinements  of  modern  poetry  to  the  matter  and  the  manner 
of  the  ancient  metrical  romance.  The  author,  enamoured 
of  the  lofty  visions  of  chivalry,  and  partial  to  the  strains  in 
which  they  were  formerly  embodied,  seems  to  have  employed 
all  the  resources  of  his  genius  in  endeavouring  to  recall  them 
to  the  favour  and  admiration  of  the  public,  and  in  adapting 
to  the  taste  of  modern  readers,  a  species  of  poetry  which  was 
once  the  delight  of  the  courtly,  but  has  long  ceased  to 
gladden  any  other  eyes  than  those  of  the  scholar  and  the 
antiquary.  This  is  a  romance,  therefore,  composed  by  a 

VOL.  I.  3 


[  34  ] 


minstrel  of  the  present  day;  or  such  a  romance  as  we  may 
suppose  would  have  been  written  in  modern  times,  if  that 
style  of  composition  had  continued  to  be  cultivated,  and  par¬ 
takes  consequently  of  the  improvements  which  every  branch 
of  literature  has  received  since  the  time  of  its  desertion.” — 
Jeffrey,  April ,  1805.] 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


CANTO  FIRST. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  way  was  long,  the  wind  was  cold, 
The  Minstrel  was  infirm  and  old ; 

His  wither’d  cheek,  and  tresses  gray, 
Seem’d  to  have  known  a  better  day ; 

The  harp,  his  sole  remaining  joy, 

Was  carried  by  an  orphan  boy. 

The  last  of  all  the  Bards  was  he, 

Who  sung  of  Border  chivalry  ; 

For,  welladay !  their  date  was  tied. 

His  tuneful  brethren  all  were  dead  ; 

And  he,  neglected  and  oppress’d, 

Wish’d  to  be  with  them,  and  at  rest.  . 

No  more  on  prancing  palfrey  borne, 

He  enroll’d,  light  as  lark  at  morn  ; 

No  longer  courted  and  caress’d, 

High  placed  in  hall,  a  welcome  guest, 

He  pour’d,  to  lord  and  lady  gay, 

The  unpremeditated  lay : 

Old  times  were  changed,  old  manners  gone 
A  stranger  fill’d  the  Stuarts’  throne  ; 


38 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


The  bigots  of  the  iron  time 

c> 

Had  call’d  his  harmless  art  a  crime. 

A  wandering  Harper,  scorn’d  and  poor, 

He  begg’d  his  bread  from  door  to  door, 

And  timed,  to  please  a  peasant’s  ear, 

The  harp,  a  king  had  loved  to  hear. 

He  pass’d  where  Newark’s1  stately  tower 
Looks  out  from  Yarrow’s  birchen  bower  : 


1  [“  This  is  a  massive  square  tower,  now  unroofed  and  ruin¬ 
ous,  surrounded  by  an  outward  wall,  defended  by  round 
flanking  turrets.  It  is  most  beautifully  situated,  about  three 
miles  from  Selkirk,  upon  the  banks  of  the  Yarrow,  a  fierce 
and  precipitous  stream,  which  unites  with  the  Ettricke  about 
a  mile  beneath  the  castle. 

“  Newark  Castle  was  built  by  James  II.  The  royal  arms, 
with  the  unicorn,  are  engraved  on  a  stone  in  the  western  side 
of  the  tower.  There  was  a  much  more  ancient  castle  in  its 
immediate  vicinity,  called  Auldwark,  founded,  it  is  said,  by 
Alexander  III.  Both  were  designed  for  the  royal  residence 
when  the  King  was  disposed  to  take  his  pleasure  in  the  ex¬ 
tensive  forest  of  Ettricke.  Various  grants  occur  in  the  rec¬ 
ords  of  the  Privy  Seal,  bestowing  the  keeping  of  the  Castle 
of  Newark  upon  different  barons.  There  is  a  popular  tradi¬ 
tion,  that  it  was  once  seized,  and  held  out  by  the  outlaw 
Murray,  a  noted  character  in  song,  who  only  surrendered 
Newark  upon  condition  of  being  made  hereditary  sheriff  of 
the  forest.  A  long  ballad,  containing  an  account  of  this 
transaction,  is  preserved  in  the  Border  Minstrelsy ,  (vol.  i. 
p.  369.)  Upon  the  marriage  of  James  IV.  with  Marga¬ 
ret,  sister  of  Henry  VIII.,  the  Castle  of  Newark,  with  the 
whole  Forest  of  Ettricke,  was  assigned  to  her  as  a  part  of  her 
jointure  lands.  But  of  this  she  could  make  little  advantage; 
for,  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  she  is  found  complaining 


INTRODUCTION. 


39 


The  Minstrel  gazed  with  wishful  eye — 
No  humbler  resting-place  was  nigh. 
With  hesitating  step  at  last, 

The  embattled  portal  arch  he  pass’d, 
Whose  ponderous  grate  and  massy  bar 
Had  oft  roll’d  back  the  tide  of  war, 

But  never  closed  the  iron  door 
Against  the  desolate  and  poor. 

The  Duchess 1  marked  his  weary  pace, 


heavily,  that  Buccleuch  had  seized  upon  these  lands.  In¬ 
deed,  the  office  of  keeper  was  latterly  held  by  the  family  of 
Buccleuch,  and  with  so  firm  a  grasp,  that  when  the  Forest 
of  Ettricke  was  disparked,  they  obtained  a  grant  of  the  Cas¬ 
tle  of  Newark  in  property.  It  was  within  the  court  yard 
of  this  Castle  that  General  Lesly  did  military  execution 
upon  the  prisoners  whom  he  had  taken  at  the  battle  ot  Phil- 
iphaugh.  The  Castle  continued  to  be  an  occasional  seat  of 
the  Buccleuch  family  for  more  than  a  century;  and  here,  it  is 
said,  the  Duchess  of  Monmouth  and  Buccleuch  was  brought 
up.  For  this  reason,  probably,  Mr.  Scott  has  chosen  to  make 
it  the  scene  in  which  the  ‘  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  ’  is  re¬ 
cited  in  her  presence,  and  for  her  amusement.”  —  Schetky’s 
Illustrations  of  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel 

It  may  be  added  that  Bowhill  was  the  favourite  residence 
of  Lord  and  Lady  Dalkeith,  (afterwards  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Buccleuch,)  at  the  time  when  the  poem  was  composed; 
the  ruins  of  Newark  are  all  but  included  in  the  park  attached 
to  that  modern  seat  of  the  family;  and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  no 
doubt,  was  influenced  in  his  choice  of  the  locality,  by  the 
predilection  of  the  charming  lady  who  suggested  the  subject 
of  his  “Lay”  for  the  scenery  of  the  Yarrow — a  beautiful 
walk  on  whose  banks,  leading  from  the  house  to  the  old  cas¬ 
tle,  is  called,  in  memory  of  her,  the  Duchess's  Walk. — Ed.] 
i  Anne,  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and  Monmouth,  representa- 


40 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


His  timid  mien,  and  reverend  face, 

And  bade  her  page  the  menials  tell, 

That  they  should  tend  the  old  man  well : 

For  she  had  known  adversity, 

Though  born  in  such  a  high  degree ; 

In  pride  of  power,  in  beauty’s  bloom, 

Had  wept  o’er  Monmouth’s  bloody  tomb  ! 

\ 

When  kindness  had  his  wants  supplied. 
And  the  old  man  was  gratified, 

Began  to  rise  his  minstrel  pride  : 

And  he  began  to  talk  anon, 

Of  good  Earl  Francis,1  dead  and  gone, 

And  of  Earl  Walter,2  rest  him,  God  ! 

A  braver  ne’er  to  battle  rode  ; 

And  how  full  many  a  tale  he  knew, 

Of  the  old  warriors  of  Buccleuch  : 

And,  would  the  noble  Duchess  deign 
To  listen  to  an  old  man’s  strain, 

Though  stiff  his  hand,  his  voice  though  weak, 
He  thought  even  yet,  the  sooth  to  speak, 
That,  if  she  loved  the  harp  to  hear, 

He  could  make  music  to  her  ear. 

The  humble  boon  was  soon  obtain’d  ; 

tiveof  the  ancient  Lords  of  Buccleuch,  and  widow  of  the  un¬ 
fortunate  James,  Duke  of  Monmouth,  who  was  beheaded  in 
1685. 

1  Francis  Scott,  Earl  of  Buccleuch,  father  of  the  Duchess. 

2  Walter,  Earl  of  Buccleuch,  grandfather  of  the  Duchess, 
and  a  celebrated  warrior. 


INTRODUCTION. 


41 


The  Aged  Minstrel  audience  gain’d. 

But,  when  he  reach’d  the  room  of  state, 
Where  she,  with  all  her  ladies,  sate, 
Perchance  he  wish’d  his  boon  denied  : 

For,  when  to  tune  his  harp  he  tried, 

His  trembling  hand  had  lost  the  ease, 
Which  marks  security  to  please  ; 

And  scenes,  long  past,  of  joy  and  pain, 
Came  wildering  o’er  his  aged  brain — 

He  tried  to  tune  his  harp  in  vain  ! 

The  pitying  Duchess  praised  its  chime, 

And  gave  him  heart,  and  gave  him  time, 
Till  every  string’s  according  glee 
Was  blended  into  harmony. 

And  then,  he  said,  he  would  full  fain 
He  could  recall  an  ancient  strain, 

He  never  thought  to  sing  again. 

It  was  not  framed  for  village  churls, 

But  for  high  dames  and  mighty  earls  ; 

He  had  play’d  it  to  King  Charles  the  Good, 
When  he  kept  court  in  Holyrood  ; 

And  much  he  wish’d,  yet  fear’d,  to  try 
The  long-forgotten  melody. 

Amid  the  strings  his  fingers  stray’d, 

And  an  uncertain  warbling  made, 

And  oft  he  shook  his  hoary  head. 

But  when  he  caught  the  measure  wild, 

The  old  man  raised  his  face,  and  smiled  ; 
And  lighten’d  up  his  faded  eye, 

With  all  a  poet’s  ecstasy  ! 


42 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


In  varying  cadence,  soft  or  strong, 

He  swept  the  sounding  chords  along  : 

The  present  scene,  the  future  lot, 

His  toils,  his  wants,  were  all  forgot : 

Cold  diffidence,  and  age’s  frost, 

In  the  full  tide  of  song  were  lost ; 

Each  blank,  in  faithless  memory  void, 

The  poet’s  glowing  thought  supplied  ; 

And,  while  his  heart  responsive  rung, 

’Twas  thus  the  Latest  Minstrel  suns:.1 

1  [“  In  the  very  first  rank  of  poetical  excellence,  we  are  in¬ 
clined  to  place  the  introductory  and  concluding  lines  of  every 
Canto,  in  which  the  ancient  strain  is  suspended,  and  the  feel¬ 
ings  and  situation  of  the  minstrel  himself  described  in  the 
words  of  the  author.  The  elegance  and  the  beauty  of  this 
setting ,  if  we  may  so  call  it,  though  entirely  of  modern  work¬ 
manship,  appears  to  us  to  be  fully  more  worthy  of  admiration 
than  the  bolder  relief  of  the  antiques  which  it  incloses,  and 
leads  us  to  regret  that  the  author  should  have  wasted ,  in  imitation 
and  antiquarian  researches ,  so  much  of  those  powers  which  seem 
fully  equal  to  the  task  of  raising  him  an  independent  reputation." 
— Jeffrey.] 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  FIRST. 


I. 

The  feast  was  over  in  Branksome  tower,1 
And  the  Ladye  had  gone  to  her  secret  bower ; 
Her  bower  that  was  guarded  by  word  and  by  spell, 
Deadly  to  hear,  and  deadly  to  tell — 

Jesu  Maria,  shield  us  well ! 

No  living  wight,  save  the  Ladye  alone, 

Had  dared  to  cross  the  threshold  stone. 


n. 

The  tables  were  drawn,  it  was  idlesse  all ; 

Knight,  and  page,  and  household  squire, 
Loiter’d  through  the  lofty  hall, 

Or  crowded  round  the  ample  fire  : 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  A. 


44 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


The  stag-hounds,  weary  with  the  chase, 
Lay  stretch’d  upon  the  rushy  floor, 
And  urged,  in  dreams,  the  forest  race, 
From  Tevoit-stone  to  Eskdale-moor.1 


1  [“  The  ancient  romance  owes  much  of  its  interest  to  the 
lively  picture  which  it  affords  of  the  times  of  chivalry,  and 
of  those  usages,  manners,  and  institutions,  which  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  associate  in  our  minds,  with  a  certain 
combination  of  magnificence  with  simplicity,  and  ferocity 
with  romantic  honour.  The  representations  contained  in 
those  performances,  however,  are  for  the  most  part  too  rude  and 
naked  to  give  complete  satisfaction.  The  execution  is  always 
extremely  unequal;  and  though  the  writer  sometimes  touches 
upon  the  appropriate  feeling  with  great  effect  and  felicity, 
still,  this  appears  to  be  done  more  by  accident  than  design; 
and  he  wanders  away  immediately  into  all  sorts  of  ludicrous 
or  uninteresting  details,  without  any  apparent  consciousness 
of  incongruity.  These  defects  Mr.  Scott  has  corrected  with 
admirable  address  and  judgment  in  the  greater  part  of  the 
work  now  before  us;  and  while  he  has  exhibited  a  very  strik¬ 
ing  and  impressive  picture  of  the  old  feudal  usages  and  in¬ 
stitutions,  he  has  shown  still  greater  talent  in  engrafting  upon 
those  descriptions  all  the  tender  or  magnanimous  emotions  to 
which  the  circumstances  of  the  story  naturally  give  rise. 
Without  impairing  the  antique  air  of  the  whole  piece,  or  vio¬ 
lating  the  simplicity  of  the  ballad  style,  he  has  contrived,  in 
this  way,  to  impart  a  much  greater  dignity,  and  more  pow¬ 
erful  interest  to  his  production,  than  could  ever  be  obtained 
by  the  unskilful  and  unsteady  delineations  of  the  old  roman¬ 
cers.  Nothing,  we  think,  can  afford  a  finer  illustration  of  this 
remark,  than  the  opening  stanzas  of  the  whole  poem;  they 
transport  us  at  once  into  the  days  of  knightly  daring  and  feu¬ 
dal  hostility,  at  the  same  time  that  they  suggest,  in  a  very 
interesting  way,  all  those  softer  sentiments  which  arise  out 
ofsome  parts  of  the  description.” — Jeffkey.] 


CANTO  I.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


45 


III. 

Nine-and-twenty  knights  of  fame 

Hung  their  shields  in  Branksome-Hall  ; 1 
Nine-and-twenty  squires  of  name 

Brought  them  their  steeds  to  bower  from 
stall ; 

Nine-and-twenty  yeomen  tall 
AVaited,  duteous,  on  them  all : 

They  were  all  knights  of  mettle  true, 
Kinsmen  to  the  bold  Buccleuch. 


IY. 

Ten  of  them  were  sheathed  in  steel, 

ATith  belted  sword,  and  spur  on  heel  : 

They  quitted  not  their  harness  bright, 

Neither  by  day,  nor  yet  by  night : 

They  lay  down  to  rest, 

AVith  corslet  laced, 

Pillow’d  on  buckler  cold  and  hard  ; 

They  carved  at  the  meal 
ATith  gloves  of  steel, 

And  they  drank  the  red  wine  through  the  hel¬ 
met  barred. 


V. 

Ten  squires,  ten  yeomen,  mail-clad  men, 
AVaited  the  beck  of  the  warders  ten  ; 
Thirty  steeds,  both  fleet  and  wight, 
Stood  saddled  in  stable  day  and  night, 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  B. 


46 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


Barbed  with  frontlet  of  steel,  I  trow, 

And  with  Jedwood-axe  at  saddlebow  ; 1 
A  hundred  more  fed  free  in  stall  : — 

Such  was  the  custom  of  Branksome-Hall. 


VI. 

Why  do  these  steeds  stand  ready  dight  ? 

Why  watch  these  warriors,  arm’d,  by  night  ? — 

They  watch,  to  hear  the  bloodhound  baying  ; 

They  watch,  to  hear  the  war-horn  braying  ; 

To  see  St.  George’s  red  cross  streaming, 

To  see  the  midnight  beacon  gleaming  : 

They  watch,  against  Southern  force  and  guile, 
Lest  Scroop,  or 'Howard,  or  Percy’s  powers, 
Threaten  Branksome’s  lordly  towers, 

From  Warkworth,  or  Naworth,  or  merry  Car¬ 
lisle.2 

1  “  Of  a  truth,”  says  Froissart,  “  the  Scottish  cannot  boast 
great  skill  with  the  bow,  but  rather  bear  axes,  with  which, 
in  time  of  need,  they  give  heavy  strokes.”  The  Jedwood- 
axe  was  a  sort  of  partisan,  used  b}r  horsemen,  as  appears 
from  the  arms  of  Jedburgh,  which  bear  a  cavalier  mounted, 
and  armed  with  this  weapon.  It  is  also  called  a  Jedwood  or 
Jeddart  staff. 

2  [See  Appendix,  Note  C.,  and  compare  these  stanzas  with 
the  description  of  Jamie  Telfer’s  appearance  at  Branksome- 
Hall,  ( Border  Minstrelsy ,  vol.  ii.  p.  5,)  to  claim  the  protection 
of  “Auld  Buccleuch  ” — and  the  ensuing  scene  (page  9) 

“  The  Scotts  they  rade,  the  Scotts  they  ran, 

Sae  starkly  and  sae  steadilie ! 

And  aye  the  ower-word  o’  the  thrang 

Was — ‘  Rise  for  Branksome  readilie,’  ”  &c. 


CANTO  I.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


47 


VII. 

Such  is  the  custom  of  Branksome-Hall. — i 
Many  a  valiant  knight  is  here ; 

But  he,  the  chieftain  of  them  all, 

His  sword  hangs  rusting  on  the  wall, 

Beside  his  broken  spear. 

Bards  long  shall  tell, 

How  Lord  Walter  fell ! 2 
When  startled  burghers  fled,  afar, 

The  furies  of  the  Border  war ; 

When  the  streets  of  high  Dunedin 3 
Saw  lances  gleam,  and  falchions  redden, 
And  heard  the  slogan’s  4  deadly  yell — 
Then  the  Chief  of  Branksome  fell. 

VIII. 

Can  piety  the  discord  heal, 

Or  stanch  the  death-feud’s  enmity  ? 

Can  Christian  lore,  can  patriot  zeal, 

Can  love  of  blessed  charity  ? 

No  !  vainly  to  each  holy  shrine, 

In  mutual  pilgrimage  they  drew  ; 

Compare  also  the  Ballad  of  l<  Kinmont  Willie,”  ( Minstrelsy . 
vol.  ii.  p.  53.) 

“  Now  word  is  gane  to  the  bauld  keeper, 

In  Branksome  ha’  where  that  he  lay,”  &c.— Ed.J 

1  [There  are  not  many  passages  in  English  poetry  more  im¬ 
pressive  than  some  parts  of  stanzas  vii.  viii.  ix.”— Jeffrey.] 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  D. 

8  Edinburgh. 

4  The  war-cry,  or  gathering  word,  of  a  Border  clan. 


48 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  I. 


Implored,  in  vain,  the  grace  divine 

For  chiefs,  their  own  red  falchions  slew  : 
While  Cessford  owns  the  rule  of  Carr, 

While  Ettrick  boasts  the  line  of  Scott, 

The  slaughter’d  chiefs,  the  mortal  jar, 

The  havoc  of  the  feudal  war, 

Shall  never,  never  be  forgot ! 1 

1  Among  other  expedients  resorted  to  for  stanching  the  feud 
betwixt  the  Scotts  and  the  Kerrs,  there  was  a  bond  executed 
in  1529,  between  the  heads  of  each  clan,  binding  themselves 
to  perform  reciprocally  the  four  principal  pilgrimages  of 
Scotland  for  the  benefit  of  the  souls  of  those  of  the  opposite 
name  who  had  fallen  in  the  quarrel.  This  indenture  is 
printed  in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border ,  vol.  i.  But 
either  it  never  took  effect,  or  else  the  feud  was  renewed 
shortly  afterwards. 

Such  pactions  were  not  uncommon  in  feudal  times;  and, 
as  might  be  expected,  they  were  often,  as  in  the  present  case, 
void  of  the  effect  desired.  When  Sir  Walter  Mauny,  the 
renowned  follower  of  Edward  III.,  had  taken  the  town  of 
Ryol  in  Gascony,  he  remembered  to  have  heard  that  his 
father  lay  there  buried,  and  offered  a  hundred  crowns  to  any 
who  could  show  him  his  grave.  A  very  old  man  appeared  be¬ 
fore  Sir  Walter,  and  informed  him  of  the  manner  of  his  father’s 
death,  and  the  place  of  his  sepulture.  It  seems  the  Lord  of 
Mauny  had,  at  a  great  tournament,  unhorsed,  and  wounded 
to  the  death,  a  Gascon  knight,,  of  the  house  of  Mirepoix, 
whose  kinsman  was  Bishop  of  Cambray.  For  this  deed  he 
was  held  at  feud  by  the  relations  of  the  knight,  until  he 
agreed  to  undertake  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  St.  James 
of  Compostella,  for  the  benefit  of  the  soul  of  the  deceased. 
But  as  he  returned  through  the  town  of  Ryol,  after  accom¬ 
plishment  of  his  vow,  he  was  beset  and  treacherously  slain, 
by  the  kindred  of  the  knight  whom  he  had  killed.  Sir  Wal¬ 
ter,  guided  by  the  old  man,  visited  the  lowly  tomb  of  his 
father  ;  and,  having  read  the  inscription,  which  was  in  Latin, 


CANTO  I.J 


49 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


IX. 

In  sorrow  o’er  Lord  Walter’s  bier 
The  warlike  foresters  had  bent ; 

And  many  a  flower,  and  many  a  tear, 

Old  Teviot’s  maids  and  matrons  lent : 
But  o’er  her  warrior’s  bloody  bier 
The  Ladye  dropp’d  nor  flower  nor  tear  ! 1 
Vengeance,  deep-brooding  o’er  the  slain, 
Had  lock’d  the  source  of  softer  woe  ; 
And  burning  pride,  and  high  disdain, 
Forbade  the  rising  tear  to  flow ; 

Until,  amid  his  sorrowing  clan, 

Her  son  lisp’d  from  the  nurse’s  knee — 

“  And  if  I  live  to  be  a  man, 

My  father’s  death  revenged  shall  be  !  ” 
Then  fast  the  mother’s  tears  did  seek 
To  dew  the  infant’s  kindling  cheek. 


x. 

* 

All  loose  her  negligent  attire 
All  loose  her  golden  hair, 

Hung  Margaret  o’er  her  slaughter’d  sire, 

And  wept  in  wild  despair. 

But  not  alone  the  bitter  tear 

he  caused  the  body  to  be  raised,  and  transported  to  his 
native  city  of  Valenciennes,  where  masses  were,  in  the  days 
of  Froissart,  duly  said  for  the  soul  of  the  unfortunate  pil¬ 
grim. —  Chronycle  of  Froissart,  vol.  i.  p.  123. 

][Orig.  (1st  Edition.)  “The  Ladye  dropp’d  nor  siyli 
nor  tear.”] 


VOL.  I. 


4 


50 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


Had  filial  grief  supplied  ; 

For  hopeless  love,  and  anxious  fear, 

Had  lent  their  mingled  tide  : 

Nor  in  her  mother’s  alter’d  eye 
Dared  she  to  look  for  sympathy. 

Her  lover,  ’gainst  her  father’s  clan, 
With  Carr  in  arms  had  stood,1 
When  Mathouse-burn  to  Melrose  ran, 
All  purple  with  their  blood  ; 

And  well  she  knew,  her  mother  dread, 
Before  Lord  Cranstoun  she  should  wed,2 
Would  see  her  on  her  dying  bed. 


1  The  family  of  Ker,  Kerr,  or  Carr,3  was  very  powerful  on 
the  Border.  Fynes  Morrison  remarks,  in  his  Travels,  that 
their  influence  extended  from  the  village  of  Preston-Grange, 
in  Lothian,  to  the  limits  of  England.  Cessford  Castle,  the 
ancient  baronial  residence  of  the  family,  is  situated  near  the 
village  of  Morebattle,  within  two  or  three  miles  of  the  Che¬ 
viot  Hills.  It  has  been  a  place  of  great  strength  and  conse¬ 
quence,  but  is  now  niinous.  Tradition  affirms,  that  it  was 
founded  by  Halbert,  or  Habby  Kerr,  a  gigantic  warrior,  con¬ 
cerning  whom  many  stories  are  current  in  Roxburghshire.  The 
Duke  of  Roxburghe  represents  Kerr  of  Cessford.  A  distinct 
and  powerful  branch  of  the  same  name  own  the  Marquis  of 
Lothian  as  their  chief.  Hence  the  distinction  betwixt  Kerrs 
of  Cessford  and  Fairnihirst. 

2  The  Cranstouns,  Lord  Cranstoun,  are  an  ancient  Border 
family,  whose  chief  seat  was  at  Crailing,  in  Teviotdale. 
They  were  at  this  time  at  feud  with  the  clan  of  Scott;  for 
it  appears  that  the  Lady  of  Buccleuch,  in  1557,  beset  the  Laird 

3  The  name  is  spelt  differently  by  the  various  families  who 
bear  it.  Carr  is  selected,  not  as  the  most  correct,  but  as  the 
most  poetical  reading. 


CANTO  I.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


51 


XI. 

Of  noble  race  the  Ladye  came, 

Her  father  was  a  clerk  of  fame, 

Of  Bethune’s  line  of  Picardie : 1 

He  learn’d  the  art  that  none  may  name, 

In  Padua,  far  beyond  the  sea.2 

Men  said,  he  changed  his  mortal  frame 
By  feat  of  magic  mystery ; 

For  when,  in  studious  mood,  he  paced 
St.  Andrew’s  cloister’d  hall,3 

His  form  no  darkening  shadow  traced 
Upon  the  sunny  wall !  4 

of  Cranstoun,  seeking  his  life.  Nevertheless,  the  same  Cran- 
stoun,  or  perhaps  his  son,  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  the 
same  lady. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  E. 

2  Padua  was  long  supposed,  by  the  Scottish  peasants,  to  be 
the  principal  school  of  necromancy.  The  Earl  of  Gowrie, 
slain  at  Perth,  in  1600,  pretended,  during  his  studies  in  Italy, 
to  have  acquired  some  knowledge  of  the  cabala,  by  which, 
he  said,  he  could  charm  snakes,  and  work  other  miracles ; 
and,  in  particular,  could  produce  children  without  the  inter¬ 
course  of  the  sexes —See  the  Examination  of  Wemyss  of  Bogie 
before  the  Privy  Council,  concerning  Cowrie’s  Conspiracy. 

3  [First  Edition — “  St.  Kentigerne's  hall.” — St  Mungo,  or 
Kentigern,  is  the  patron  saint  of  Glasgow .] 

4  The  shadow  of  a  necromancer  is  independent  of  the  sun. 
Glycas  informs  us,  that  Simon  Magus  caused  his  shadow  to 
go  before  him,  making  people  believe  it  was  an  attendant 
spirit. — Heywood’s  Hierarchie,  p.  475.  The  vulgar  con¬ 
ceive,  that  when  a  class  of  students  have  made  a  certain  pro¬ 
gress  in  their  mystic  studies,  they  are  obliged  to  run  through 
a  subterraneous  hall,  where  the  devil  literally  catches  the 
hindmost  in  the  race,  unless  he  crosses  the  hall  so  speedily, 


52 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


XII. 

And  of  his  skill,  as  bards  avow, 

He  taught  that  Ladye  fair, 

Till  to  her  bidding  she  could  bow 
The  viewless  forms  of  air.1 
And  now  she  sits  in  secret  bower, 

In  old  Lord  David’s  western  tower, 

And  listens  to  a  heavy  sound, 

That  moans  the  mossy  turrets  round, 
v  Is  it  the  roar  of  Teviot’s  tide, 

That  chafes  against  the  scaur’s2  red  side  ? 

Is  it  the  wind,  that  swings  the  oaks  ? 

Is  it  the  echo  from  the  rocks  ? 

What  may  it  be,  the  heavy  sound, 

That  moans  old  Branksome’s  turrets  round  ? 

XIII. 

At  the  sullen,  moaning  sound, 

The  ban-dogs  bay  and  howl ; 

And,  from  the  turrets  round, 

Loud  whoops  the  startled  howl. 

Li  the  hall,  both  squire  and  knight 
Swore  that  a  storm  was  near, 

And  looked  forth  to  view  the  night ; 

But  the  night  was  still  and  clear  ! 

that  the  arch-enemy  can  only  apprehend  his  shadow.  In  the 
latter  case,  the  person  of  the  sage  never  after  throws  any 
shade;  and  those,  who  have  thus  lost  their  shadow,  always 
prove  the  best  magicians. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  F. 

2  Scaur ,  a  precipitous  bank  of  earth. 


CANTO  I.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


53 


XIY. 

From  the  sound  of  Teviot’s  tide, 

Chafing  with  the  mountain’s  side, 

From  the  groan  of  the  wind-swung  oak, 
From  the  sullen  echo  of  the  rock, 

From  the  voice  of  the  coming  storm, 

The  Ladye  knew  it  well ! 

It  was  the  Spirit  of  the  Flood  that  spoke, 
And  he  call’d  on  the  Spirit  of  the  Fell. 

xv. 

RIVER  SPIRIT. 

u  Sleep’s!  thou,  brother  ?  ” — 

MOUNTAIN  SPIRIT. 

— “  Brother,  nay — 

On  my  hills  the  moon-beams  play. 

From  Craik -cross  to  Skelf  hill-pen, 

By  every  rill,  in  every  glen, 

Merry  elves  their  morris  pacing, 

To  aerial  minstrelsy, 

Emerald  rings  on  brown  heath  tracing, 
Trip  it  deft  and  merrily. 

Up,  and  mark  their  nimble  feet ! 

Up,  and  list  their  music  sweet !  ” 


XVI. 

RIVER  SPIRIT. 

“  Tears  of  an  imprison’d  maiden 
Mix  with  my  polluted  stream  ; 
Margaret  of  Branksome,  sorrow-laden, 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


Mourns  beneath  the  moon’s  pale  beam. 
Tell  me,  thou,  who  view’st  the  stars, 

When  shall  cease  these  feudal  jars  ? 

What  shall  be  the  maiden’s  fate  ? 

Who  shall  be  the  maiden’s  mate  ?  ” — 

XVII. 

MOUNTAIN  SPIRIT. 

“  Arthur’s  slow  wain  his  course  doth  roll, 

In  utter  darkness  round  the  pole  ; 

The  Northern  Bear  lowers  black  and  grim ; 
Orion’s  studded  belt  is  dim  ; 

Twinkling  faint,  and  distant  far, 

Shimmers  through  mist  each  planet  star ; 

Ill  may  I  read  their  high  decree  ! 

But  no  kind  influence  deign  they  shower 
On  Teviot’s  tide,  and  Branksome’s  tower, 
Till  pride  be  quell’d,  and  love  be  free.” 


XVIII. 

The  unearthly  voices  ceast, 

And  the  heavy  sound  was  still ; 

It  died  on  the  river’s  breast, 

It  died  on  the  side  of  the  hill. 

But  round  Lord  David’s  tower 
The  sound  still  floated  near  ; 

For  it  rung  in  the  Ladye’s  bower, 

And  it  rung  in  the  Ladye’s  ear. 

She  raised  her  stately  head, 

And  her  heart  throbb’d  high  with  pride  : — 


CANTO  I.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


55 


“  Your  mountains  shall  bend, 

And  your  streams  ascend, 

Ere  Margaret  be  our  foeman’s  bride  !  ” 


XIX. 

The  Ladye  sought  the  lofty  hall, 

Where  many  a  hold  retainer  lay, 

And,  with  jocund  din,  among  them  all, 

Her  son  pursued  his  infant  play. 

A  fancied  moss-trooper,1  the  boy 
The  truncheon  of  a  spear  bestrode, 

And  round  the  hall,  right  merrily, 

In  mimic  foray2  rode. 

Even  bearded  knights,  in  arms  grown  old, 
Share  in  his  frolic  gambols  bore, 

Albeit  their  hearts  of  rugged  mould, 

Were  stubborn  as  the  steel  they  wore. 

For  the  gray  warriors  prophesied, 

How  the  brave  boy,  in  future  war, 

Should  tame  the  Unicorn’s  pride,3 
Exalt  the'  Crescent  and  the  Star.4 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  G. 

2  Foray ,  a  predatory  inroad. 

3  [This  line,  of  which  the  metre  appears  defective,  would 
have  its  full  complement  of  feet  according  to  the  pronuncia¬ 
tion  of  the  poet  himself— assail  who  were  familiar  with  his 
utterance  of  the  letter  r  will  bear  testimony. — Ed.] 

4  The  arms  of  the  Kerrs  of  Cessford  were,  Vert  on  a  chev- 
eron,  betwixt  three  unicorns’  heads  erased  argent ,  three  mul¬ 
lets  sable;  crest,  a  unicorn’s  head  erased  proper.  The  Scotts 
of  Buccleuch  bore,  Or,  on  a  bend  azure ;  a  star  of  six  points 
betwixt  two  crescents  of  the  first. 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


XX. 

The  Ladye  forgot  her  purpose  high, 

One  moment,  and  no  more  ; 

One  moment  gazed  with  a  mother’s  eye, 

As  she  paused  at  the  arched  door : 

Then  from  amid  the  armed  train, 

She  call’d  to  her  William  of  Deloraine.1 

XXI. 

A  stark  moss-trooping  Scott  was  he, 

As  e’er  couch’d  Border  lance  by  knee  : 
Through  Solway  sands,  through  Tarras  moss, 
Blindfold,  he  knew  the  paths  to  cross  ; 

By  wily  turns,  by  desperate  bounds, 

Had  baffled  Percy’s  best  bloodhounds  ; 2 
In  Eske,  or  Liddel,  fords  were  none, 

But  he  would  ride  them,  one  by  one  ; 

Alike  to  him  was  time  or  tide, 

December’s  snow,  or  July’s  pride  ; 

Alike  to  him  was  tide  or  time, 

Moonless  midnight,  or  matin  prime  : 

Steady  of  heart,  and  stout  of  hand, 

As  ever  drove  prey  from  Cumberland  ; 

Five  times  outlawed  had  he  been, 

By  England’s  King,  and  Scotland’s  Queen. 

XXII. 

“  Sir  William  of  Deloraine,  good  at  need, 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  H. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  I. 


CANTO  I.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


57 


Mount  thee  on  the  wightest  steed  ; 

Spare  not  to  spur,  nor  stint  to  ride, 

Until  thou  come  to  fair  Tweedside ; 

And  in  Melrose’s  holy  pile 
Seek  thou  the  Monk  of  St.  Mary’s  aisle. 
Greet  the  Father  well  from  me  ; 

Say  that  the  fated  hour  is  come, 

And  to  night  he  shall  watch  with  thee, 

To  win  the  treasure  of  the  tomb : 

For  this  will  be  St.  Michael’s  night, 

And,  though  stars  be  dim,  the  moon  is  bright ; 
And  the  Cross,  of  bloody  red, 

Will  point  to  the  grave  of  the  mighty  dead. 

XXIII. 

“  What  he  gives  thee,  see  thou  keep  ; 

Stay  not  thou  for  food  or  sleep : 

Be  it  scroll,  or  be  it  book, 

Into  it,  Knight,  thou  must  not  look ; 

Tf  thou  readest,  thou  art  lorn  ! 

Better  had’st  thou  ne’er  been  born.” — 


XXIV. 

“  O  swiftly  can  speed  my  dapple-gray  steed, 
Wliich  drinks  of  the  Tevoit  clear  ; 

Ere  break  of  day,”  the  Warrior  ’gan  say, 

“  Again  will  I  be  here  : 

And  safer  by  none  may  thy  errand  be  done, 
Than,  noble  dame,  by  me  ; 


58 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


Letter  nor  line  know  I  never  a  one, 

Were’t  my  neck-verse  at  Hairibee.”  1 

XXV. 

Soon  in  his  saddle  sate  he  fast, 

And  soon  the  steep  descent  he  past, 

Soon  cross’d  the  sounding  barbican,2 
And  soon  the  Tevoit  side  he  won. 

Eastward  the  wooded  path  he  rode, 

Green  hazles  o’er  his  basnet  nod ; 

He  pass’d  the  Peel3  of  Goldiland, 

And  cross’d  old  Borthwick’s  roaring  strand  ; 
Dimly  he  view’d  the  Moat-liill’s  mound, 
Where  Druid  shades  still  flitted  round  :  4 
In  Hawick  twinkled  many  a  light ; 

Behind  him  soon  they  set  in  night ; 


1  Hairibee ,  the  place  of  executing  the  Border  marauders  at 
Carlisle.  The  neck-verse  is  the  beginning  of  the  51st  Psalm, 
Miserere  mei ,  &c.,  anciently  read  by  criminals  claiming  the 
benefit  of  clergy.  [“  In  the  rough  but  spirited  sketch  of  the 
marauding  Borderer,  and  in  the  naivete  of  his  last  declaration,, 
the  reader  will  recognize  some  of  the  most  striking  features 
of  the  ancient  ballad.” — Critical  Revieu).\ 

2  Barbican ,  the  defence  of  the  outer  gate  of  a  feudal  castle. 

3  PeeZ,  a  Border  tower. 

4  This  is  a  round  artificial  mount  near  Hawick,  which,  from 
its  name,  (Mot.  Ang.  Sax.  Concilium ,  Conventus ,)  was  probably 
anciently  used  as  a  place  for  assembling  a  national  council 
of  the  adjacent  tribes.  There  are  many  such  mounds  in 
.Scotland,  and  they  are  sometimes,  but  rarely,  of  a  square 
form. 


CANTO  I.J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


50 


And  soon  lie  spurr’d  his  courser  keen 
Beneath  the  tower  of  Hazeldean.1 

XXVI. 

The  clattering  hoofs  the  watchmen  mark  ; — 
“  Stand,  ho  !  thou  courier  of  the  dark.” — 

“  For  Branksome,  ho  !  ”  the  knight  rejoin’d, 
And  left  the  friendly  tower  behind, 
lie  turn’d  him  now  from  Teviotside, 

And,  guided  by  the  tinkling  rill, 
Northward  the  dark  ascent  did  ride, 

And  gained  the  moor  at  Horsliehill : 
Broad  on  the  left  before  him  lay, 

For  many  a  mile,  the  Roman  way.2 

XXVII. 

A  moment  now  he  slack’d  his  speed, 

A  moment  breathed  his  panting  steed  ; 

Drew  saddle-girth  and  corslet-band, 

And  loosen’d  in  the  sheath  his  brand. 

On  Minto-crags  the  moon-beams  glint,3 

1  The  estate  of  Hazeldean,  corruptly  Hassendean,  belonged 
formerly  to  a  family  of  Scotts,  thus  commemorated  by  Satch- 
ells : — 

“  Hassendean  came  without  a  call, 

The  ancientest  house  among  them  all.’ 

2  An  ancient  Roman  road,  crossing  through  part  of  Rox¬ 
burghshire. 

3  See  Appendix,  Note  K. 


60 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO 


Where  Barnhill  hew’d  his  bed  of  flint ; 

Who  flung  his  outlaw’d  limbs  to  rest, 

Where  falcons  hang  their  giddy  nest, 

Mid  cliff's,  from  whence  his  eagle  eye 
For  many  a  league  his  prey  could  spy ; 
Cliffs,  doubling,  on  their  echoes  borne, 

The  terrors  of  the  robber’s  horn  ; 

Cliff's,  which,  for  many  a  later  year, 

The  warbling  Doric  reed  shall  hear, 

When  some  sad  swain  shall  teach  the  grove, 
Ambition  is  no  cure  for  love ! 

XXVIII. 

Unchallenged,  thence  pass’d  Deloraine, 

To  ancient  Riddel’s  fair  domain,1 
Where  Aill,  from  mountains  freed, 

Down  from  the  lakes  did  raving  come ; 

Each  wave  was  crested  with  tawny  foam, 
Like  the  mane  of  a  chestnut  steed. 

In  vain !  no  torrent,  deep  or  broad, 

Might  bar  the  bold  moss-trooper’s  road. 


XXIX. 

At  the  first  plunge  the  horse  sunk  low, 
And  the  water  broke  o’er  the  saddlebow ; 
Above  the  foaming  tide,  I  ween, 

Scarce  half  the  charger’s  neck  was  seen ; 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  L. 


CANTO  I.J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


61 


For  he  was  barded 1  from  counter  to  tail. 

And  the  rider  was  armed  complete  in  mail ; 
Never  heavier  man  and  horse 
Stemm’d  a  midnight  torrent’s  force. 

The  warrior’s  very  plume,  I  say, 

Was  daggled  by  the  dashing  spray  ; 

Yet,  through  good  heart,  and  Our  Ladye’s  grace, 
At  length  he  gain’d  the  landing  place. 


XXX. 

Now  Bowden  ^loor  the  march-man  won, 
And  sternly  shook  liis  plumed  head, 

As  glanced  his  eye  o’er  Halidon  ; 2 

For  on  his  soul  the  slaughter  red 
Of  that  unhallow’d  morn  arose, 

When  first  the  Scott  and  Carr  were  foes ; 
When  royal  James  beheld  the  fray, 

Prize  to  the  victor  of  the  day  ; 

When  Home  and  Douglas,  in  the  van, 
Bore  down  Buccleuch’s  retiring  clan, 

Till  gallant  Cessford’s  heart-blood  dear 
Reek’d  on  dark  Elliot’s  Border  spear. 


1  Barded ,  or  barbed, — applied  to  a  horse  accoutred  with 
defensive  armour. 

2  Halidon  was  an  ancient  seat  of  the  Kerrs  of  Cessford, 
now  demolished.  About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  north¬ 
ward  lay  the  field  of  battle  betwixt  Buccleuch  and  Angus, 
which  is  called  to  this  day  the  Skirmish  Field. — See  Ap¬ 
pendix,  Note  C. 


62 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  I. 


XXXI. 

In  bitter  mood  he  spurred  fast, 

And  soon  the  hated  heath  was  past ; 

And  far  beneath,  in  lustre  wan, 

Old  Melros’  rose,  and  fair  Tweed  ran : 

Like  some  tall  rock  with  lichens  gray, 

Seem’d  dimly  huge,  the  dark  Abbaye. 

When  Hawick  he  pass’d,  had  curfew  rung, 
Now  midnight  lauds1  were  in  Melrose  sung. 
The  sound j  upon  the  fitful  gale, 

In  solemn  wise  did  rise  and  fy.il. 

Like  that  wild  harp,  whose  magic  tone 
Is  waken’d  by  the  winds  alone. 

But  when  Melrose  he  reach’d,  ’twas  silence  all ; 
He  meetly  stabled  his  steed  in  stall, 

And  sought  the  convent’s  lonely  wall.2 

1  Lauds ,  the  midnight  service  of  the  Catholic  church. 

2  The  ancient  and  beautiful  monastery  of  Melrose  was 
founded  by  King  David  I.  Its  ruins  afford  the  finest  spec¬ 
imen  of  Gothic  architecture  and  Gothic  sculpture  which 
Scotland  can  boast.  The  stone  of  which  it  is  built,  though 
it  has  resisted  the  weather  for  so  many  ages,  retains  perfect 
sharpness,  so  that  even  the  most  minute  ornaments  seem  as 
entire  as  when  newly  wrought.  In  some  of  the  cloisters,  as 
is  hinted  in  the  next  Canto,  there  are  representations  of 
flowers,  vegetables,  &c.,  carved  in  stone,  with  accuracy  and 
precision  so  delicate,  that  we  almost  distrust  our  senses, 
when  we  consider  the  difficulty  of  subjecting  so  hard  a  sub¬ 
stance  to  such  intricate  and  exquisite  modulation.  This 
superb  convent  was  dedicated  to  St.  Mary,  and  the  monks 
were  of  the  Cistertian  order.  At  the  time  of  the  Ke forma¬ 
tion,  they  shared  in  the  general  reproach  of  sensuality  and 


CANTO  1. 1 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


63 


Here  paused  the  harp ;  and  with  its  swell 
The  Master’s  fire  and  courage  fell : 

Dejectedly,  and  low,  he  bow’d, 

And,  gazing  timid  on  the  crowd, 

He  seem’d  to  seek,  in  every  eye, 

If  they  approved  his  minstrelsy ; 

And,  diffident  of  present  praise, 

Somewhat  he  spoke  of  former  days, 

And  how  old  age,  and  wand’ring  long, 

Had  done  his  hand  and  harp  some  wrong. 

The  Duchess,  and  her  daughters  fair, 

And  every  gentle  lady  there, 

Each  after  each,  in  due  degree, 

Gave  praises  to  his  melody ; 

His  hand  was  true,  his  voice  was  clear, 

And  much  they  long’d  the  rest  to  hear. 
Encouraged  thus,  the  Aged  Man, 

After  meet  rest,  again  began. 

y  o  o 

irregularity,  thrown  upon  the  Roman  churchmen.  The  old 
Words  of  Galashiels ,  a  favourite  Scottish  air,  ran  thus : — 

0  the  monks  of  Melrose  made  gude  kale  1 
On  Fridays  when  they  fasted: 

They  wanted  neither  beef  nor  ale, 

As  long  as  their  neighbours’  lasted. 

1  Kale,  Broth. 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  SECOND. 


YOL.  I. 


O 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  SECOND. 


I. 

If  tliou  would’st  view  fair  Melrose  aright,1 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moonlight ; 

For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  clay 
Gild,  but  to  flout,  the  ruins  gray. 

When  the  broken  arches  are  black  in  night, 
And  each  shafted  oriel  glimmers  white ; 

When  the  cold  light’s  uncertain  shower 
Streams  on  the  ruin’d  central  tower  ; 

When  buttress  and  buttress,  alternately, 

Seem  framed  of  ebon  and  ivory  ; 

When  silver  edges  the  imagery, 

1  [  “  In  the  description  of  Melrose,  which  introduces  the 
Second  Canto,  the  reader  will  observe  how  skilfully  the 
Author  calls  in  the  aid  of  sentimental  associations  to  heighten 
the  effect  of  the  picture  which  he  presents  to  the  eye.” 
— Jeffrey.] 


68 


THE  LAY  OF 


f  CANTO  II. 


And  the  scrolls  that  teach  thee  to  live  and  die ; 1 
When  distant  Tweed  is  heard  to  rave, 

And  the  owlet  to  hoot  o’er  the  dead  man’s  grave, 
Then  go — but  go  alone  the  while — 

Then  view  St.  David’s  ruin’d  pile  ;  2 
And,  home  returning,  soothly  swear, 

Was  never  scene  so  sad  and  fair  ! 


ii. 

Short  halt  did  Deloraine  make  there  ; 

Little  reck’d  he  of  the  scene  so  fair : 

With  dagger’s  hilt,  on  the  wicket  strong, 

He  struck  full  loud,  and  struck  full  long. 

The  porter  hurried  to  the  gate — 

“  Who  knocks  so  loud,  and  knocks  so  late  ?  ” — 
“From  Branksome  I,”  the  warrior  cried  ; 

And  straight  the  wicket  open’d  wide  : 

For  Branksome’s  Chiefs  had  in  battle  stood, 

To  fence  the  rights  of  fair  Melrose  ; 

And  lands  and  livings,  many  a  rood, 

Had  gifted  the  shrine  for  their  souls’  repose.3 

1  The  buttresses,  ranged  along  the  sides  of  the  ruins  of 
Melrose  Abbey,  are,  according  to  the  Gothic  style,  richly 
carved  and  fretted,  containing  niches  for  the  statues  of  saints, 
and  labelled  with  scrolls,  bearing  appropriate  texts  of  Scrip¬ 
ture.  Most  of  these  statues  have  been  demolished. 

2  David  I.  of  Scotland,  purchased  the  reputation  of  sanctity, 
by  founding,  and  liberally  endowing,  not  only  the  monastery 
of  Melrose,  but  those  of  Kelso,  Jedburgh,  and  many  others ; 
which  led  to  the  well-known  observation  of  his  successor, 
that  he  was  a  sore  saint  for  the  crown. 

3  The  Buccleuch  family  were  great  benefactors  to  the  Ab- 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


69 


III. 

Bold  Deloraine  his  errand  said  ; 

The  porter  bent  his  humble  head ; 

With  torch  in  hand,  and  feet  unshod, 
And  noiseless  step,  the  path  he  trod  : 
The  arched  cloister,  far  and  wide, 

Rang  to  the  warrior’s  clanking  stride 
Till,  stooping  low  his  lofty  crest, 

He  enter’d  the  cell  of  the  ancient  priest, 
And  lifted  his  barred  aventayle,1 
To  hail  the  Monk  of  St.  Mary’s  aisle. 


IY. 

“  The  Ladye  of  Branksome  greets  thee  by  me ; 

Says,  that  the  fated  hour  is  come, 

And  that  to-night  I  shall  watch  with  thee, 

To  win  the  treasure  of  the  tomb.” — 

From  sackcloth  couch  the  Monk  arose, 

With  toil  his  stiffen’d  limbs  lie  rear’d ; 

A  hundred  years  had  flung  their  snows 
On  his  thin  locks  and  floating  beard. 


Y. 

And  strangely  on  the  Knight  look’d  he, 

And  his  blue  eyes  gleam’d  wild  and  wide ; 

bey  of  Melrose.  As  early  as  the  reign  of  Robert  II.,  Robert 
Scott,  Baron  of  Murdieston  and  Rankleburn,  (now  Buccleuch,) 
gave  to  the  monks  the  lands  of  Hinkery,  in  Ettrick  Forest, 
pro  salute  aniinoesuce. —  Cliartulary  of  Melrose,  28th  May,  1415. 
1  Aventayle ,  visor  of  the  helmet. 


70 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  II. 


“And,  darest  thou,  Warrior!  seek  to  see 
What  heaven  and  hell  alike  would  hide  ? 
My  breast,  in  belt  of  iron  pent, 

With  shirt  of  hair  and  scourge  of  thorn ; 
For  threescore  years,  in  penance  spent, 

My  knees  those  flinty  stones  have  worn  ; 
Yet  all  too  little  to  atone 
For  knowing  what  should  ne’er  be  known. 
Would’st  thou  thy  every  future  year 
In  ceaseless  prayer  and  penance  drie, 
Yet  wait  thy  latter  end  with  fear — 
Then,  daring  Warrior,  follow  me  !  ” 


VI. 

u  Penance,  father,  will  I  none  ; 

Prayer  know  I  hardly  one  ; 

For  mass  or  prayer  can  I  rarely  tarry, 

Save  to  patter  an  Ave  Mary, 

When  I  ride  on  a  Border  foray.1 

Other  prayer  can  I  none ; 

So  speed  me  my  errand,  and  let  me  be  gone.” — 

1  The  Borderers  were,  as  may  be  supposed,  very  ignorant 
about  religious  matters.  Colville,  in  his  Paranesis ,  or  Ad¬ 
monition ,  states,  that  the  reformed  divines  were  so  far  from 
undertaking  distant  journeys  to  convert  the  Heathen,  “  as  I 
wold  wis  at  God  that  ye  wold  only  go  bot  to  the  Hielands  and 
Borders  of  our  own  realm,  to  gain  our  awin  countreymen, 
who,  for  lack  of  preching  and  ministration  of  the  sacraments, 
must,  with  tyme,  becum  either  infidells,  or  atheists.”  But 
we  learn,  from  Lesley,  that,  however  deficient  in  real  religion, 
they  regularly  told  their  beads,  and  never  with  more  zeal 
than  when  going  on  a  plundering  expedition. 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


71 


VII. 

Again  on  the  Kniglit  look’d  the  Churchman  old, 
And  again  he  sighed  heavily  ; 

For  he  had  himself  been  a  warrior  bold, 

And  fought  in  Spain  and  Italy. 

And  he  thought  on  the  days  that  were  long  since 

by, 

When  his  limbs  were  strong,  and  his  courage  was 
high  : — 

Now,  slow  and  Faint,  he  led  the  way, 

Where,  cloister’d  round,  the  garden  lay  ; 

The  pillar’d  arches  were  over  their  head, 

And  beneath  their  feet  were  the  hones  of  the 
dead.1 


VIII. 

Spreading  herbs,  and  flowerets  bright, 

Glisten’d  with  the  dew  of  night ; 

Nor  herb,  nor  floweret,  glisten’d  there, 

But  was  carved  in  the  cloister-arches  as  fair. 

The  Monk  gazed  long  on  the  lovely  moon, 
Then  into  the  night  he  looked  forth ; 

And  red  and  bright  the  streamers  light 
Were  dancing  in  the  glowing  north. 

So  had  he  seen,  in  fair  Castile, 

The  youth  in  glittering  squadrons  start  ; 2 

1  The  cloisters  were  frequently  used  as  places  of  sepul¬ 
ture.  An  instance  occurs  in  Dryburgh  Abbey,  where  the 
cloister  has  an  inscription,  bearing,  Hie  jacet  f  rater  Archi- 
baldus. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  M. 


72 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II. 


Sudden  the  flying  jennet  wheel, 

And  hurl  the  unexpected  dart. 

He  knew,  by  the  streamers  that  shot  so  bright, 
That  spirits  were  riding  the  northern  light. 


IX. 

By  a  steel-clenched  postern  door, 

They  enter’d  now  the  chancel  tall  ; 

The  darken’d  roof  rose  high  aloof 
On  pillars  lofty  and  light  and  small : 

The  keystone,  that  lock’d  each  ribbed  aisle, 

Was  a  fleur-de-lys,  or  a  quatre-feuille  ; 

The  corbells  1  were  carved  grotesque  and  grim  ; 
And  the  pillars,  with  cluster’d  shafts  so  trim, 
With  base  and  with  capital  flourish’d  around,2 
Seem’d  bundles  of  lances  which  garlands  had 
bound. 


x. 

Full  many  a  scutcheon  and  banner  riven, 

Shook  to  the  cold  niglit-wind  of  heaven, 

Around  the  screened  altar’s  pale ; 

And  there  the  dying  lamps  did  burn, 

Before  thy  low  and  lonely  urn, 

0  gallant  Chief  of  Otterburne  ! 3 

1  Coi'bells,  the  projections  from  which  the  arches  spring, 
usually  cut  in  a  fantastic  face  or  mask. 

2  [“  With  plinth  and  with  capital  flourish’d  around.” 

First  Edition.] 

8  The  famous  and  desperate  battle  of  Otterburne  was  fought 
15th  August,  1388,  betwixt  Henry  Percy,  called  Hotspur, 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


73 


And  thine,  dark  Knight  of  Liddesdale  ! 1 
O  fading  honours  of  the  dead  ! 

O  high  ambition,  lowly  laid  ! 


XI. 

The  moon  on  the  east  oriel  shone 2 
Through  slender  shafts  of  shapely  stone, 

and  James,  Earl  of  Douglas.  Both  these  renowned  cham¬ 
pions  were  at  the  head  of  a  chosen  body  of  troops,  and  they 
were  rivals  in  military  fame;  so  that  Froissart  affirms:  “  Of 
all  the  battayles  and  encounteryngs  that  I  have  made  men- 
cion  of  here  before  in  all  this  hystory,  great  or  smalle,  this 
battayle  that  I  treat  of  nowe  was  one  of  the  sorest  and  best 
foughten,  without  cowardes  or  faynte  hertes :  for  there  was 
neyther  knyghte  nor  squver  but  that  dyde  his  devoyre,  and 
foughte  liande  to  hande.  This  batayle  was  lyke  the  batayle 
of  Becherell,  the  which  was  valiauntly  fought  and  endured.” 
The  issue  of  the  conflict  is  well  known:  Percy  was  made 
prisoner,  and  the  Scots  won  the  day,  dearly  purchased  by  the 
death  of  their  gallant  general  the  Earl  of  Douglas,  who  was 
slain  in  the  action.  He  was  buried  at  Melrose,  beneath  the 
high  altar.  “  His  obsequye  was  done  reverently,  and  on  his 
bodye  layde  a  tombe  of  stone,  and  his  baner  liangyng  over 
hym.” — Fkoissakt,  vol.  ii.  p.  165. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  N. 

2  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  more  beautiful  specimen  of 
the  lightness  and  elegance  of  Gothic  architecture,  when  in 
its  purity,  than  the  eastern  window  of  Melrose  Abbey.  Sir 
James  Hall  of  Dunglas,  Bart.,  has,  with  great  ingenuity  and 
plausibility,  traced  the  Gothic  order  through  its  various 
forms  and  seemingly  eccentric  ornaments,  to  an  architectural 
imitation  of  wickerwork;  of  which,  as  we  learn  from  some 
of  the  legends,  the  earliest  Christian  churches  were  con¬ 
structed.  In  such  an  edifice,  the  original  of  the  clustered 
pillars  is  traced  to  a  set  of  round  posts,  begirt  with  slender 
rods  of  willow,  whose  loose  summits  were  brought  to  meet 


74 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  il 


By  foliaged  tracery  combined  ; 

Thou  would’st  have  thought  some  fairy’s  hand 
’Twixt  poplars  straight  the  ozier  wand, 

In  many  a  freakish  knot,  had  twined ; 

Then  framed  a  spell,  when  the  work  was  done, 
And  changed  the  willow-wreaths  to  stone. 

The  silver  light,  so  pale  and  faint, 

Show’d  many  a  prophet,  and  many  a  saint, 
Whose  image  on  the  glass  was  dyed  ; 

Full  in  the  midst,  his  Cross  of  Red 
Triumphant  Michael  brandished, 

And  trampled  the  Apostate’s  pride. 

The  moon-beam  kiss’d  the  holy  pane, 

And  threw  on  the  pavement  a  bloody  stain. 

XII. 

They  sate  them  down  on  a  marble  stone,1 
(A  Scottish  monarch  slept  below  ;  ) 

Thus  spoke  the  Monk,  in  solemn  tone  : — 


from  all  quarters,  and  bound  together  artificially,  so  as  to 
produce  the  framework  of  the  roof:  and  the  tracery  of  our 
Gothic  windows  is  displayed  in  the  meeting  and  interlacing 
of  rods  and  hoops,  affording  an  inexhaustible  variety  of 
beautiful  forms  of  open  work.  This  ingenious  system  is 
alluded  to  in  the  romance.  Sir  James  Hall’s  Essay  on  Gothic 
Architecture  is  published  in  Flic,  Edinbuvc/h  Philosophical 
Transactions. 

1 A  large  marble  stone,  in  the  chancel  of  Melrose,  is  pointed 
out  as  the  monument  of  Alexander  II.,  one  of  the  greatest 
of  our  early  kings ;  othei's  say  it  is  the  resting-place  of 
^  aldeve,  one  of  the  early  abbots,  who  died  in  the  odour  of 
sanctity. 


CANTO  II.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  75 

“  I  was  not  always  a  man  of  woe  ; 

For  Paynim  countries  I  have  trod, 

And  fought  beneath  the  Cross  of  Grod  : 

Now,  strange  to  my  eyes  thine  arms  appear, 

And  their  iron  clang  sounds  strange  to  my  ear. 

XIII. 

“  In  these  far  climes  it  was  my  lot 
To  meet  the  wondrous  Michael  Scott ; 1 

A  wizard,  of  such  dreaded  fame, 

That  when,  in  Salamanca’s  cave,2 
Him  listed  his  magic  wand  to  wave, 

The  bells  would  ring  in  Notre-Dame  ! 3 
Some  of  his  skill  he  taught  to  me  ; 

And,  Warrior,  I  could  say  to  thee 
The  words  that  cleft  Eildon  hills  in  three, 

And  bridled  the  Tweed  with  a  curb  of  stone  : 
But  to  speak  them  were  a  deadly  sin ; 

And  for  having  but  thought  them  my  heart 
within, 

A  treble  penance  must  be  done. 

XIV. 

“  When  Michael 4  lay  on  his  dying  bed, 

His  conscience  was  awakened  : 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  0. — 2  Ibid.  Note  P. — 8  Ibid.  Note  Q. 
4  Michael  Scott  was,  once  upon  a  time,  much  embarrassed 
by  a  spirit,  for  whom  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  finding 
constant  employment.  He  commanded  him  to  build  a  cciuld, 
or  dam-head,  across  the  Tweed  at  Kelso;  it  was  accomplished 


76 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CAJsTO  II. 


Pie  bethought  him  of  his  sinful  deed, 

And  he  gave  me  a  sign  to  come  with  speed  : 
I  was  in  Spain  when  the  morning  rose, 

But  I  stood  by  his  bed  ere  evening  close. 
The  words  may  not  again  be  said, 

That  lie  spoke  to  me,  on  death-bed  laid  ; 
They  would  rend  this  Abbey’s  massy  nave, 
And  pile  it  in  heaps  above  his  grave. 


xv. 

“  I  swore  to  bury  his  Mighty  Book, 

That  never  mortal  might  therein  look  ; 

And  never  to  tell  where  it  was  hid, 

Save  at  his  Chief  of  Branksome’s  need : 

And  when  that  need  was  past  and  o’er, 

Again  the  volume  to  restore. 

I  buried  him  on  St.  Michael’s  night, 

When  the  bell  toll’d  one,  and  the  moon  was 
bright, 

And  1  dug  his  chamber  among  the  dead, 

When  the  floor  of  the  chancel  was  stained  red, 
That  his  patron’s  cross  might  over  him  wave, 

And  scare  the  fiends  from  the  Wizard’s  grave. 

in  one  night,  and  still  does  honour  to  the  infernal  architect. 
Michael  next  ordered,  that  Eildon  hill,  which  was  then  a 
uniform  cone,  should  be  divided  into  three.  Another  night 
was  sufficient  to  part  its  summit  into  the  three  picturesque 
peaks  which  it  now  bears.  At  length  the  enchanter  con¬ 
quered  this  indefatigable  demon,  by  employing  him  in  the 
hopeless  and  endless  task  of  making  ropes  out  of  sea- 
sand. 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


77 


XVI. 

“  It  was  a  night  of  woe  and  dread, 

When  Michael  in  the  tomb  I  laid  ! 

Strange  sounds  along  the  chancel  pass’d, 

The  banners  waved  without  a  blast  ” — 

— Still  spoke  the  Monk,  when  the  bell  toll’d 
one  ! — 

I  tell  you,  that  a  braver  man 

Than  William  of  Deloraine,  good  at  need, 

Against  a  foe  ne’er  spurr’d  a  steed ; 

Yet  somewhat  was  he  chill’d  with  dread, 

And  his  hair  did  bristle  upon  his  head. 

XVII. 

“Lo,  Warrior  !  now,  the  Cross  of  Red 
Points  to  the  grave  of  the  mighty  dead ; 

Within  it  burns  a  wondrous  light, 

To  chase  the  spirits  that  love  the  night: 

That  lamp  shall  burn  unquenchably, 

Until  the  eternal  doom  shall  be.” — 1 

Slow  moved  the  Monk  to  the  broad  flag-stone, 

Which  the  bloody  Cross  was  traced  upon : 

He  pointed  to  a  secret  nook  ; 

An  iron  bar  the  Warrior  took  ; 2 

And  the  Monk  made  a  sign  with  his  wither’d  hand, 

The  grave’s  huge  portal  to  expand. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  R. 

2  [  Orig. — A  bar  from  thence  the  warrior  took.] 


78 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II 


XVIII. 

With  beating  heart  to  the  task  he  went ; 

His  sinewy  frame  o’er  the  gravestone  bent ; 
With  bar  of  iron  heaved  amain, 

Till  the  toil-drops  fell  from  his  brows,  like  rain. 
It  was  by  dint  of  passing  strength, 

That  he  moved  the  massy  stone  at  length. 

I  would  you  had  been  there,  to  see 
How  the  light  broke  forth  so  gloriously, 
Stream’d  upward  to  the  chancel  roof, 

And  through  the  galleries  far  aloof! 

No  earthly  flame  blazed  e’er  so  bright : 

It  shone  like  heaven’s  own  blessed  light, 

And,  issuing  from  the  tomb, 

Show’d  the  Monk’s  cowl,  and  visage  pale, 
Danced  on  the  dark-brow’d  Warrior’s  mail, 
And  kiss’d  his  waving  plume. 

XIX. 

Before  their  eyes  the  Wizard  lay, 

As  if  he  had  not  been  dead  a  day. 

Ilis  hoary  beard  in  silver  roll’d, 

He  seem’d  some  seventy  winters  old ; 

A  palmer’s  amice  wrapp’d  him  round, 

With  a  wrought  Spanish  baldric  bound, 

Like  a  pilgrim  from  beyond  the  sea : 

His  left  hand  held  his  Book  of  Might : 

A  silver  cross  was  in  his  right ; 

The  lamp  was  placed  beside  his  knee: 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


79 


High  and  majestic  was  his  look, 

At  which  the  fellest  fiends  had  shook, 

And  all  unruffled  was  his  face  : 

They  trusted  his  soul  had  gotten  grace.1 

xx. 

Often  had  William  of  Deloraine 
Rode  through  the  battle’s  bloody  plain, 

And  trampled  down  the  warriors  slain, 

And  neither  known  remorse  nor  awe  ; 

Yet  now  remorse  and  awe  he  own’d ; 

His  breath  came  thick,  his  head  swam  round, 
When  this  strange  scene  of  death  he  saw. 
Bewilder’d  and  unnerved  he  stood, 

And  the  priest  pray’d  fervently  and  loud : 
With  eyes  averted  prayed  he ; 

He  might  not  endure  the  sight  to  see, 

Of  the  man  he  had  loved  so  brotherly. 


XXI. 

And  when  the  priest  his  death-prayer  had  pray’d, 
Thus  unto  Deloraine  he  said  : — 

“  Now,  speed  thee  what  thou  hast  to  do, 

Or,  War  rior,  we  may  dearly  rue  ; 


1  [“  The  agitation  of  the  monk  at  the  sight  of  the  man, 
whom  he  had  loved  with  brotherly  affection — the  horror  of 
Deloraine,  and  his  belief  that  the  corpse  frowned,  as  he 
withdrew  the  magic  volume  from  its  grasp,  are,  in  a  succeed¬ 
ing  part  of  the  narrative,  circumstances  not  more  happily 
conceived  than  exquisitely  wrought.” — Critical  Review .] 


80 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II. 


For  those,  thou  may’st  not  look  upon, 

Are  gathering  fast  round  the  yawning  stone !  ” — 
Then  Deloraine,  in  terror,  took 
From  the  cold  hand  the  Mighty  Book, 

With  iron  clasp’d,  and  with  iron  bound: 

He  thought,  as  he  took  it,  the  dead  man  frowned ; 1 
But  the  glare  of  the  sepulchral  light, 

Perchance,  had  dazzled  the  warrior’s  sight. 


XXII. 

When  the  huge  stone  sunk  o’er  the  tomb, 

The  night  return’d  in  double  gloom ; 

For  the  moon  had  gone  down,  and  the  stars  were 
few ; 

And,  as  the  Knight  and  Priest  withdrew, 

With  wavering  steps  and  dizzy  brain, 

They  hardly  might  the  postern  gain. 

’Tis  said,  as  through  the  aisles  they  pass’d, 

They  heard  strange  noises  on  the  blast ; 

And  through  the  cloister-galleries  small, 


1  William  of  Deloraine  might  be  strengthened  in  this  be¬ 
lief  by  the  well-known  story  of  the  Cid  Ruy  Diaz.  When 
the  body  of  that  famous  Christian  champion  was  sitting  in 
state  by  the  high  altar  of  the  cathedral  church  of  Toledo, 
where  it  remained  for  ten  years,  a  certain  malicious  Jew  at¬ 
tempted  to  pull  him  by  the  beard;  but  he  had  no  sooner 
touched  the  formidable  whiskers,  than  the  corpse  started  up, 
and  hall  unsheathed  his  sword.  The  Israelite  fled;  and  so 
permanent  was  the  effect  of  his  terror,  that  he  became  Chris¬ 
tian.  IIky wood’s  Hierarchies  p.  480,  quoted  from  Sebastian 
Cobarruvias  Crozee. 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


81 


Which  at  mid-lieight  thread  the  chancel  wall, 
Loud  sobs,  and  laughter  louder,  ran, 

And  voices  unlike  the  voice  of  man  ; 

As  if  the  fiends  kept  holiday, 

Because  these  spells  were  brought  to  day. 

I  cannot  tell  how  the  truth  may  be ; 

I  say  the  tale  as  ’twas  said  to  me. 

XXIII. 

“Now,  hie  thee  hence,”  the  Father  said, 

“  And  when  we  are  on  death-bed  laid, 

O  may  our  dear  Ladye,  and  sweet  St.  John, 

F orgive  our  souls  for  the  deed  we  have  done  !  ” — 
The  Monk  return’d  him  to  his  cell, 

And  many  a  prayer  and  penance  sped ; 
When  the  convent  met  at  the  noontide  bell — 
The  Monk  of  St.  Mary’s  aisle  was  dead  ! 
Before  the  cross  was  the  body  laid, 

With  hands  clasp’d  fast,  as  if  still  he  pray’d. 

xxiv. 

The  Knight  breathed  free  in  the  morning  wind, 
And  strove  his  hardihood  to  find  : 

He  was  glad  when  he  pass’d  the  tombstones  gray. 
Which  girdle  round  the  fair  Abbaye  ; 

For  the  mystic  Book,  to  his  bosom  prest, 

Felt  like  a  load  upon  his  breast; 

And  his  joints,  with  nerves  of  iron  twined, 

Shook,  like  the  aspen  leaves  in  wind. 

Full  fain  was  he  when  the  dawn  of  day 
VOL.  i.  6 


82 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II. 


Began  to  brighten  Cheviot  gray  , 

He  joy’d  to  see  the  cheerful  light, 

And  he  said  Ave  Mary,  as  well  as  he  might. 


XXV. 

The  sun  had  brighten’d  Cheviot  gray, 

The  sun  had  brighten’d  the  Carter’s  1 2  side  ; 

And  soon  beneath  the  rising  day 

Smiled  Branksome  Towers  and  Teviot’s  tide.* 
The  wild  birds  told  their  warbling  tale, 

And  waken’d  every  flower  that  blows  ; 

And  peeped  forth  the  violet  pale, 

And  spread  her  breast  the  mountain  rose. 

And  lovelier  than  the  rose  so  red, 

Yet  paler  than  the  violet  pale, 

She  early  left  her  sleepless  bed, 

The  fairest  maid  of  Teviotdale. 

XXVI. 

Why  does  fair  Margaret  so  early  awake,3 
And  don  her  kirtle  so  hastilie  ; 

And  the  silken  knots,  which  in  hurry  she  would 
make, 

1  A  mountain  on  the  Border  of  England,  above  Jedburgh. 

2  How  lovely  and  exhilarating  is  the  fresh  cool  morning 
landscape  which  relieves  the  mind  after  the  horrors  of  the 
spell-guarded  tomb!  ” — Anna  Seward.] 

3  [“  How  true,  sweet,  and  original,  is  this  description  of 
Margaret — the  trembling  haste  with  which  she  attires 
herself,  descends,  and  speeds  to  the  bower!” — Anna  Sew¬ 
ard.] 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


83 


Why  tremble  her  slender  fingers  to  tie ; 

Why  does  she  stop,  and  look  often  around, 

As  she  glides  down  the  secret  stair ; 

And  why  does  she  pat  the  shaggy  bloodhound, 

As  he  rouses  him  up  from  his  lair ; 

And,  though  she  passes  the  postern  alone, 

Why  is  not  the  watchman’s  bugle  blown  ? 

XXVII. 

The  ladye  steps  in  doubt  and  dread, 

Lest  her  watchful  mother  hear  her  tread ; 

The  ladye  caresses  the  rough  bloodhound, 

Lest  his  voice  should  waken  the  castle  round  ; 
The  watchman’s  bugle  is  not  blown, 

For  he  was  her  foster-father’s  son ; 

And  she  glides  through  the  greenwood  at  dawn 
of  light, 

To  meet  Baron  Henry,  her  own  true  knight. 

XXVIII. 

The  Knight  and  ladye  fair  are  met, 

And  under  the  hawthorn’s  boughs  are  set. 

A  fairer  pair  were  never  seen 
To  meet  beneath  the  hawthorn  green. 

He  was  stately,  and  young,  and  tall; 

Dreaded  in  battle,  and  loved  in  hall: 

And  she,  when  love,  scarce  told,  scarce  hid, 

Lent  to  her  cheek  a  livelier  red  ; 

When  the  half  sigh  her  swelling  breast 
Against  the  silken  ribbon  prest ; 


84 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II. 


When  her  blue  eyes  their  secret  told, 

Though  shaded  by  her  locks  of  gold — 

Where  would  you  find  the  peerless  fair, 

With  Margaret  of  Branksome  might  compare  ! 

XXIX, 

And  now,  fair  dames,  methinks  I  see 
You  listen  to  my  minstrelsy;  . 

Your  waving  locks  ye  backward  throw, 

And  sidelong  bend  your  necks  of  snow  : 

Ye  ween  to  hear  a  melting  tale, 

Of  two  true  lovers  in  a  dale  ; 

And  how  the  Knight,  with  tender  fire, 

To  paint  his  faithful  passion  strove ; 

Swore  he  might  at  her  feet  expire, 

But  never,  never  cease  to  love ; 

And  how  she  blush’d,  and  how  she  sigh’d, 

And,  half  consenting,  half  denied, 

And  said  that  she  would  die  a  maid ; — 

Yet,  might  the  bloody  feud  be  stay’d, 

Henry  of  Cranstoun,  and  only  he, 

Margaret  of  Branksome’s  choice  should  be. 

XXX. 

Alas  !  fair  dames,  your  hopes  are  vain  ! 

My  harp  has  lost  the  enchanting  strain  ; 

Its  lightness  would  my  age  reprove : 

My  hairs  are  gray,  my  limbs  are  old, 

My  heart  is  dead,  my  veins  are  cold  : 

I  may  not,  must  not,  sing  of  love. 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


85 


XXXI. 

Beneath  an  oak,  moss’d  o’er  by  eld, 

The  Baron’s  Dwarf  his  courser  held,1 
And  held  his  crested  helm  and  spear. 

That  Dwarf  was  scarce  an  earthly  man. 

If  the  tales  were  true  that  of  him  ran 
Through  all  the  Border,  far  and  near. 

’Twas  said,  when  the  Baron  a-hunting  rode 
Through  Reedsdale’s  glens,  but  rarely  trod, 

He  heard  a  voice  cry,  “  Lost  I  lost  I  lost !  ” 
And,  like  tennis-ball  by  racket  toss’d, 

A  leap,  of  thirty  feet  and  three, 

Made  from  the  gorse  this  elfin  shape, 

Distorted  like  some  dwarfish  ape, 

And  lighted  at  Lord  Cranstoun’s  knee. 

Lord  Cranstoun  was  some  whit  dismay’d  ; 

’Tis  said  that  five  good  miles  he  rade, 

To  rid  him  of  his  company ; 

But  where  he  rode  one  mile,  the  Dwarf  ran  four, 
And  the  Dwarf  was  first  at  the  castle  door. 


XXXII. 

Use  lessens  marvel,  it  is  said  : 

This  elvish  Dwarf  with  the  Baron  stayed : 
Little  he  ate,  and  less  he  spoke, 

Nor  mingled  with  the  menial  flock  : 

And  oft  apart  his  arms  he  toss’d, 

And  often  mutter’d  “  Lost !  lost !  lost !  ” 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  S. 


86 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II 


He  was  waspish,  arch,  and  litherlie,1 
But  well  Lord  Cranstoun  served  he  : 

And  he  of  his  service  was  full  fain ; 

For  once  he  had  been  ta’en  or  slain, 

An  it  had  not  been  for  his  ministry. 

All  between  Home  and  Hermitage, 

Talk’d  of  Lord  Cranstoun’s  Goblin-Page. 


1  [The  idea  of  the  imp  domesticating  himself  with  the  first 
person  he  met,  and  subjecting  himself  to  that  one’s  authority, 
is  perfectly  consonant  to  old  opinions.  Ben  Jonson,  in  his 
play  of  “  The  Devil  is  an  Ass,”  has  founded  the  leading  inci¬ 
dent  of  that  comedy  upon  this  article  of  the  popular  creed. 
A  fiend,  styled  Pug,  is  ambitious  of  figuring  in  the  world, 
and  petitions  his  superior  for  permission  to  exhibit  himself 
upon  earth.  The  devil  grants  him  a  day-rule,  but  clogs  it 
with  this  condition, — 

“  Satan — Only  thus  more,  I  bind  you 
To  serve  the  first  man  that  you  meet;  and  him 
I’ll  show  you  now;  observe  him,  follow  him; 

But,  once  engaged,  there  you  must  stay  and  fix.” 

It  is  observable  that,  in  the  same  play,  Pug  alludes  to  the 
spareness  of  his  diet.  Mr.  Scott’s  goblin,  though  “  waspish, 
arch,  and  litherlie,”  proves  a  faithful  and  honest  retainer  to 
the  lord,  into  whose  service  he  had  introduced  himself.  This 
sort  of  inconsistency  seems  also  to  form  a  prominent  part  of 
the  diabolic  character.  Thus,  in  the  romances  of  the  Round 
Table,  we  find  Merlin,  the  son  of  a  devil,  exerting  himself 
most  zealously  in  the  cause  of  virtue  and  of  religion,  the 
friend  and  counsellor  of  King  Arthur,  the  chastiser  of  wrongs, 
and  the  scourge  of  the  infidels.] 


CANTO  H.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


87 


XXXIII. 

For  the  Baron  went  on  pilgrimage, 

And  took  with  him  this  elvish  Page, 

To  Mary’s  Chapel  of  the  Lowes  : 

For  there,  beside  Our  Ladye’s  lake, 

An  offering  he  had  sworn  to  make, 

And  he  would  pay  his  vows. 

But  the  Ladye  of  Branksome  gather’d  a  band 
Of  the  best  that  would  ride  at  her  command : 1 

The  trysting  place  was  Newark  Lee. 

Wat  of  Harden  came  thither  amain, 

And  thither  came  John  of  Thirlestane, 

And  thither  came  William  of  Deloraine  ; 

They  were  three  hundred  spears  and  three. 
Through  Douglas-burn,  up  Yarrow  stream,2 
Their  horses  prance,  their  lances  gleam. 

They  came  to  St.  Mary’s  lake  ere  day ; 

But  the  chapel  was  void,  and  the  Baron  away. 
They  burn’d  the  chapel  for  very  rage, 

And  cursed  Lord  Cranstoun’s  Goblin-Pa^e. 

o 

XXXIV. 

And  now,  in  Branksome’s  good  green  wood. 

As  under  the  aged  oak  he  stood, 

The  Baron’s  courser  pricks  his  ears, 

As  if  a  distant  noise  he  hears. 

The  Dwarf  waves  his  long  lean  arm  on  high, 

o  o  y 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  T. 

2  See  notes  on  the  Douglas  Tragedy  in  the  Minstrelsy,  vol. 
iii.  p.  3. — Ed. 


88 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  II. 

And  signs  to  the  lovers  to  part  and  fly ; 

No  time  was  then  to  vow  or  sigh. 

Fair  Margaret,  through  the  hazel  grove, 

Flew  like  the  startled  cushat-dove  : 1 
The  Dwarf  the  stirrup  held  and  rein  ; 

Vaulted  the  Knight  on  his  steed  amain, 

And,  pondering  deep  that  morning’s  scene, 

Rode  eastward  through  the  hawthorns  green. 


While  thus  he  pour’d  the  lengthen’d  tale, 
The  Minstrel’s  voice  began  to  fail : 

Full  slyly  smiled  the  observant  page, 

And  gave  the  wither’d  hand  of  age 
A  goblet,  crown’d  with  mighty  wine, 

The  blood  of  Velez’  scorched  vine. 

He  raised  the  silver  cup  on  high, 

And,  while  the  big  drop  fill’d  his  eye, 
Pray’d  God  to  bless  the  Duchess  long, 
And  all  who  cheer’d  a  son  of  song. 

The  attending:  maidens  smiled  to  see 
IIow  long,  how  deep,  how  zealously, 

The  precious  juice  the  Minstrel  quaff’d  ; 
And  he,  embolden’d  by  the  draught, 


1  Wood-pigeon. 


CANTO  II.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


89 


Look’d  gayly  back  to  them,  and  laugh’d. 

The  cordial  nectar  of  the  bowl 

S well’d  his  old  veins,  and  cheer’d  his  soul ; 

A  lighter,  livelier  prelude  ran, 

Ere  thus  his  tale  again  began. 

©  © 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


CANTO  THIRD. 


\ 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  THIRD. 


I. 

And  said  I  that  my  limbs  were  old, 

And  said  I  that  my  blood  was  cold, 

And  that  my  kindly  fire  was  fled, 

And  my  poor  wither’d  heart  was  dead, 
And  that  I  might  not  sing  of  love  ? — 
How  could  I  to  the  dearest  theme, 

That  ever  warm’d  a  minstrel’s  dream, 

So  foul,  so  false  a  recreant  prove  ! 

IIow  could  I  name  love’s  very  name, 

Nor  wake  my  heart  to  notes  of  flame  ! 

H. 

In  peace,  Love  tunes  the  shepherd’s  reed ; 
In  war,  he  mounts  the  warrior’s  steed  ; 


94 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  hi. 


In  halls,  in  gay  attire  is  seen  ; 

In  hamlets,  dances  on  the  green. 

Love  rules  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove, 

And  men  below,  and  saints  above  ; 

For  love  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  love. 

hi. 

So  thought  Lord  Cranstoun,  as  I  ween, 

While,  pondering  deep  the  tender  scene, 

He  rode  through  Branksome’s  hawthorn  green. 
But  the  page  shouted  wild  and  shrill, 

And  scarce  his  helmet  could  he  don, 
When  downward  from  the  shady  hill 
A  stately  knight  came  pricking  on. 

That  warrior’s  steed,  so  dapple-gray, 

Was  dark  with  sweat,  and  splash’d  with  clay ; 

His  armour  red  with  many  a  stain  : 

He  seem’d  in  such  a  weary  plight, 

As  if  he  had  ridden  the  livelong  night ; 

For  it  was  William  of  Deloraine. 


IV. 

But  no  whit  weary  did  he  seem, 

When,  dancing  in  the  sunny  beam, 

He  mark’d  the  crane  on  the  Baron’s  crest ; 1 
For  his  ready  spear  was  in  his  rest. 

Few  were  the  words,  and  stern  and  high, 

7  ©7 

1  The  crest  of  the  Cranstouns,  in  allusion  to  their  name,  is 
a  crane  dormant,  holding  a  stone  in  his  foot,  with  an  em¬ 
phatic  Border  motto,  Thou  shall  want  ere  I  want. 


CANTO  III.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


95 


That  mark’d  the  foemen’s  feudal  hate ; 
For  question  tierce,  and  proud  reply, 
Gave  signal  soon  of  dire  debate. 

Their  very  coursers  seem’d  to  know 
That  each  was  other’s  mortal  foe, 

And  snorted  tire,  when  wheel’d  around, 

To  give  each  knight  his  vantage-ground. 


Y. 

In  rapid  round  the  Baron  bent ; 

He  sigh’d  a  sigh,  and  pray’d  a  prayer ; 

The  prayer  was  to  his  patron  saint, 

The  sigh  was  to  his  ladye  fair. 

Stout  Deloraine  nor  sigh’d  nor  pray’d, 

Nor  saint,  nor  ladye,  call’d  to  aid  ; 

But  he  stoop’d  his  head,  and  couch’d  his  spear, 
And  spurr’d  his  steed  to  full  career. 

The  meeting  of  these  champions  proud 
Seem’d  like  the  bursting  thundercloud. 

YI. 

Stern  was  the  dint  the  Borderer  lent  ! 

The  stately  Baron  backwards  bent ; 

Bent  backwards  to  his  horse’s  tail, 

And  li is  plumes  went  scattering  on  the  gale  ; 
The  tough  ash  spear,  so  stout  and  true, 

Into  a  thousand  flinders  hew. 

But  Cranstoun’s  lance,  of  more  avail, 

Pierced  through,  like  silk,  the  Borderer’s  mail ; 
Through  shield,  and  jack,  and  acton,  past, 


96 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto 


Deep  in  his  bosom  broke  at  last. — 

Still  sate  the  warrior  saddle-fast, 

Till,  stumbling  in  the  mortal  shock, 
Down  went  the  steed,  the  girthing  broke, 
Hurl’d  on  a  heap  lay  man  and  horse. 

The  Baron  onward  pass’d  his  course  ;  • 
Nor  knew — so  giddy  roll’d  his  brain — 
His  foe  lay  stretch’d  upon  the  plain. 

VII. 

But  when  he  rein’d  his  courser  round, 
And  saw  his  foeman  on  the  ground 
Lie  senseless  as  the  bloody  clay, 

He  bade  his  page  to  stanch  the  wound, 
And  there  beside  the  warrior  stay, 
And  tend  him  in  his  doubtful  state, 

And  lead  him  to  Branksome  castle-gate  : 

His  noble  mind  was  inly  moved 

For  the  kinsman  of  the  maid  he  loved. 

“  This  shalt  thou  do  without  delay  : 

No  longer  here  myself  may  stay  ; 

Unless  the  swifter  I  speed  away, 

Short  shrift  will  be  at  my  dying  day.” 

VIII. 

Away  in  speed  Lord  Cranstoun  rode  ; 
The  Goblin  Page  behind  abode  ; 

His  lord’s  command  he  ne’er  withstood, 
Though  small  his  pleasure  to  do  good. 

As  the  corslet  off  he  took, 


CANTO  in.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


97 


The  dwarf  espied  the  mighty  Book ! 

Much  he  marvell’d  a  knight  of  pride, 

Like  a  book-bosom’d  priest  should  ride  : 1 
He  thought  not  to  search  or  stanch  the  wound, 
Until  the  secret  he  had  found. 


IX. 

The  iron  band,  the  iron  clasp, 

Resisted  long  the  elfin  grasp  : 

For  when  the  first  he  had  undone, 

It  closed  as  he  the  next  begun. 

Those  iron  clasps,  that  iron  band, 

Would  not  yield  to  unchristen’d  hand, 

Till  he  smear’d  the  cover  o’er 
With  the  Borderer’s  curdled  gore ; 

A  moment  then  the  volume  spread, 

And  one  short  spell  therein  he  read, 

It  had  much  of  glamour2  might, 

Could  make  a  ladye  seem  a  knight ; 

The  cobwebs  on  a  dungeon  wall 
Seem  tapestry  in  lordly  hall ; 

1  “  At  Unthank,  two  miles  N.  E.  from  the  church  (of  Ewes) 
there  are  the  ruins  of  a  chapel  for  divine  service,  in  time  of 
Popery.  There  is  a  tradition,  that  friars  were  wont  to  come 
from  Melrose,  or  Jedburgh,  to  baptize  and  marry  in  this 
parish;  and  from  being  in  use  to  carry  the  mass-book  in 
their  bosoms,  they  were  called  by  the  inhabitants  Book-a- 
bosomes.  There  is  a  man  yet  alive,  who  knew  old  men  who 
had  been  baptized  by  these  Book-a-bosomes,  and  who  says 
one  of  them,  called  Hair,  used  this  parish  for  a  very  long 
time.” — Account  of  Parish  of  Ewes,  apud  Macfarlane's  MSS. 

2  Magical  delusion. 


VOL.  I. 


7 


98 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  III 


A  nut-shell  seem  a  gilded  barge, 

A  sheeling 1  seem  a  palace  large, 

And  youth  seem  age,  and  age  seem  youth — 
All  was  delusion,  nought  was  truth.2 


x. 

He  had  not  read  another  spell, 

When  on  his  cheek  a  buffet  fell, 

So  fierce,  it  stretch’d  him  on  the  plain, 

Beside  the  wounded  Deloraine. 

From  the  ground  he  rose  dismay’d, 

And  shook  his  huge  and  matted  head  ; 

One  word  he  mutter’d,  and  no  more, 

“  Man  of  age,  thou  smitest  sore  !  ” — 

No  more  the  Elfin  Page  durst  try 
Into  the  wondrous  Book  to  pry  ; 

The  clasps,  though  smear’d  with  Christian  gore. 
Shut  faster  than  they  were  before. 

He  hid  it  underneath  his  cloak. — 

Now,  if  you  ask  who  gave  the  stroke, 

I  cannot  tell,  so  mot  I  thrive ; 

It  was  not  given  by  man  alive.3 

XI. 

Unwillingly  himself  he  address’d, 

To  do  his  master’s  high  behest : 

He  lifted  up  the  living  corse. 

And  laid  it  on  the  weary  horse  ; 

He  led  him  into  Branksome  Hall, 

1  A  shepherd’s  hut.  2  See  Appendix,  Note  U.  3  lb.  Note  V 


CANTO  III.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


99 


Before  the  beards  of  the  warders  all ; 

And  each  did  after  swear  and  say, 

There  only  pass’d  a  wain  of  hay. 

He  took  him  to  Lord  David’s  tower, 

Even  to  the  Ladye’s  secret  bower, 

And,  but  that  stronger  spells  were  spread, 
And  the  door  might  not  be  opened, 

He  had  laid  him  on  her  very  bed. 

Whate’er  he  did  of  gramarye,1 
Was  always  done  maliciously  ; 

He  hung  the  warrior  on  the  ground, 

And  the  blood  well’d  freshly  from  the  wound. 

XII. 

As  he  repass’d  the  outer  court, 

He  spied  the  fair  young  child  at  sport : 

He  thought  to  train  him  to  the  wood ; 

For,  at  a  word,  be  it  understood, 

He  was  always  for  ill,  and  never  for  good. 
Seem’d  to  the  boy,  some  comrade  gay 
Led  him  forth  to  the  woods  to  play  ; 

On  the  drawbridge  the  warders  stout 
Saw  a  terrier  and  lurcher  passing  out. 

XIII. 

He  led  the  boy  o’er  bank  and  fell, 

Until  they  came  to  a  woodland  brook  ; 

The  running  stream  dissolved  the  spell,2 

1  Magic. 

2  It  is  a  firm  article  of  popular  faith  that  no  enchantment 


100 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  in. 


And  his  own  elvish  shape  he  took. 

Could  he  have  had  his  pleasure  vilde, 

He  had  crippled  the  joints  of  the  noble  child ; 
Or,  with  his  fingers  long  and  lean, 

Had  strangled  him  in  fiendish  spleen  : 

But  his  awful  mother  he  had  in  dread, 

And  also  his  power  was  limited ; 

So  he  hut  scowl’d  on  the  startled  child, 

And  darted  through  the  forest  wild  ; 

The  woodland  brook  he  bounding  cross’d, 

And  laugh’d,  tJhd  shouted,  “  Lost !  lost !  lost !  ” 

XIV. 

Full  sore  amazed  at  the  wondrous  change, 

And  frighten’d  as  a  child  might  be, 

At  the  wild  yell  and  visage  strange, 

And  the  dark  words  of  gramarye, 

The  child,  amidst  the  forest  bower, 

Stood  rooted  like  a  lily  flower ; 

And  when  at  length,  with  trembling  pace, 

can  subsist  in  a  living  stream.  Nay,  if  you  can  interpose  a 
brook  betwixt  you  and  witches,  spectres,  or  even  fiends,  you 
are  in  perfect  safety.  Burns’s  inimitable  Tam  o'  Shanter 
turns  entirely  upon  such  a  circumstance.  The  belief  seems  to 
be  of  antiquity.  Brompton  informs  us,  that  certain  Irish 
wizards  could,  by  spells,  convert  earthen  clods,  or  stones, 
into  fat  pigs,  which  they  sold  in  the  market;  but  which 
always  reassumed  their  proper  form,  when  driven  by  the  de¬ 
ceived  purchaser  across  a  running  stream.  But  Brompton 
is  severe  on  the  Irish  for  a  very  good  reason.  “  Gens  ista 
spurcissima  non  solvunt  decimas.” — Chronicon  Johannis 
Brompton  apud  decern  Scrdptores,  p.  1076. 


CANTO  III.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


101 


He  sought  to  find  where  Branksome  lay, 
He  fear’d  to  see  that  grisly  face 

Glare  from  some  thicket  on  his  way.  . 
Thus,  starting  oft,  he  journey’d  on, 

And  deeper  in  the  wood  is  gone, — ■ 

For  aye  the  more  he  sought  his  way, 

The  further  still  he  went  astray,  — 

Until  he  heard  the  mountains  round 
Ring  to  the  haying  of  a  hound. 


xv. 

And  hark  !  and  hark  !  the  deep-mouth’d  bark 
Comes  nigher  still,  and  niglier  : 

Bursts  on  the  path  a  dark  bloodhound, 

His  tawny  muzzle  track’d  the  ground, 

And  his  red  eye  shot  fire. 

Soon  as  the  wilder’d  child  saw  he, 

He  flew  at  him  right  furiouslie. 

I  ween  you  would  have  seen  with  joy 
The  bearing  of  the  gallant  boy, 

When,  worthy  of  his  noble  sire, 

His  wet  cheek  glow’d  ’twixt  fear  and  ire ! 

He  faced  the  bloodhound  manfully, 

And  held  his  little  bat  on  high  ; 

So  fierce  he  struck,  the  dog,  afraid, 

At  cautious  distance  hoarsely  bay’d, 

But  still  in  act  to  spring  ; 

When  dash’d  an  archer  through  the  glade, 
And  when  he  saw  the  hound  was  stay’d, 

He  drew  his  tou«ji  bowstring  ; 

c  o  7 


102 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  HI. 


But  a  rough  voice  cried,  “  Shoot  not,  hoy  ! 

Ho  !  shoot  not,  Edward — ’  Tis  a  boy  !  ” 

XVI. 

The  speaker  issued  from  the  wood, 

And  check’d  his  fellow’s  surly  mood, 

And  quell’d  the  ban-dog’s  ire  : 

He  was  an  English  yeoman  good, 

And  born  in  Lancashire. 

Well  could  he  hit  a  fallow-deer 
Five  hundred  feet  him  fro; 

With  hand  more  true,  and  eye  more  clear, 
No  archer  bended  bow. 

His  coal-black  hair,  shorn  round  and  close, 
Set  off  his  sun-burn’d  face  : 

Old  England’s  sign,  St.  George’s  cross, 

His  barret-cap  did  grace  ; 

His  bugle-horn  hung  by  his  side, 

All  in  a  wolf-skin  baldric  tied ; 

And  his  short  falchion,  sharp  and  clear, 

Had  pierced  the  throat  of  many  a  deer. 


XVII. 

His  kirtle,  made  of  forest  green, 
Reach’d  scantly  to  his  knee  ; 

And,  at  his  belt,  of  arrows  keen 
A  furbish’d  sheaf  bore  he ; 

His  buckler  scarce  in  breadth  a  span, 
No  larger  fence  had  he  ; 

He  never  counted  him  a  man, 


CANTU  III.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


103 


Would  strike  below  the  knee  : 1 
His  slacken’d  bow  was  in  his  hand, 

And  the  leash,  that  was  his  bloodhound’s  band. 

1  Imitated  from  Drayton’s  account  of  Robin  Hood  and  his 
followers :  — 

“  A  hundred  valiant  men  had  this  brave  Robin  Hood, 

Still  ready  at  his  call,  that  bowmen  were  right  good: 

All  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  with  caps  of  red  and  blue, 

His  fellow’s  winded  horn  not  one  of  them  but  knew. 

When  setting  to  their  lips  their  bugles  shrill; 

The  warbling  echoes  waked  from  every  dale  and  hill; 
Their  bauldrics  set  with  studs  athwart  their  shoulders  cast, 
To  which  under  their  arms  their  sheafs  were  buckled  fast, 
A  short  sword  at  their  belt,  a  buckler  scarce  a  span, 

Who  struck  below  the  knee  not  counted  then  a  man. 

All  made  of  Spanish  yew,  their  bows  were  wondrous  strong, 
They  not  an  arrow  drew  but  was  a  clotlivard  long. 

Of  archery  they  had  the  very  perfect  craft, 

With  broad  arrow,  or  but,  or  prick,  or  roving  shaft.” 

Poly-Olbion,  Song  26. 

To  wound  an  antagonist  in  the  thigh,  or  leg,  was  reckoned 
contrary  to  the  law  of  arms.  In  a  tilt  betwixt,  Gawain  Mi¬ 
chael,  an  English  squire,  and  Joachim  Cathore,  a  Frenchman, 
“  they  met  at  the  speare  poyntes  rudely:  the  French  squyer 
justed  right  pleasantly;  the  Englishman  ran  too  lowe,  for  he 
strak  the  Frenchman  depe  into  the  thigh.  Wherewith  the 
Erie  of  Buckingham  was  right  sore  displeased,  and  so  were 
all  the  other  lords,  and  savde  how  it  was  shamefully  done.” 
— Froissart,  vol.  i.  chap.  366. — Upon  a  similar  occasion,  “  the 
two  kny gilts  came  a  fote  eclie  against  other  rudely,  with  their 
speares  low  couched,  to  stryke  eche  other  within  the  foure 
quarters.  Johan  of  Castell-Morant  strake  the  English  squyer 
on  the  brest  in  such  wyse,  that  Syr  Wyllyam  Fermetone 
stombled  and  bowed,  for  his  fote  a  lyttel  fayled  him.  He 
lielde  his  speare  lowe  with  both  his  liandes,  and  coude  nat 
amende  it,  and  strake  Syr  Johan  of  the  Castell-Morant  in  the 


104 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  III. 


XVIII. 

He  would  not  do  the  fair  child  harm, 
But  held  him  with  his  powerful  arm, 
That  he  might  neither  fight  nor  flee  ; 
For  when  the  Red-Cross  spied  he, 

The  boy  strove  long  and  violently. 

“  Now,  by  St.  George,”  the  archer  cries, 
“  Edward,  methinks  we  have  a  prize  ! 
This  boy’s  fair  face,  and  courage  free, 
Show  he  is  come  of  high  degree.” — 


XIX. 

“  Yes  !  I  am  come  of  high  degree, 

For  I  am  the  heir  of  bold  Buccleuch ; 

And,  if  thou  dost  not  set  me  free, 

F alse  Southron,  thou  slialt  dearly  rue ! 

For  Walter  of  Harden  shall  come  with  speed, 
And  William  of  Deloraine,  good  at  need, 

And  every  Scott,  from  Esk  to  Tweed ; 

And,  if  thou  dost  not  let  me  go, 


thighe,  so  that  the  speare  went  clene  throughe,  that  the  heed 
was  sene  a  handfull  on  the  other  syde.  And  Syr  Johan  with 
the  stroke  reled,  but  he  fell  nat.  Than  the  Englyshe  knyghtes 
and  squyers  were  ryghte  sore  displeased,  and  sayde  how  it 
was  a  foule  stroke.  Syr  Wyllyam  Fermetone  excused  him- 
selfe,  and  sayde  how  he  was  sorie  of  that  adventure,  and 
howe  that  yf  he  had  knowen  that  it  shulde  have  bene  so,  he 
wolde  never  have  begon  it;  sayenge  how  he  could  nat  amende 
it,  by  cause  of  glaunsing  of  his  fote  by  constraynt  of  the  great 
stroke  that  Syr  Johan  of  the  Castell-Morant  had  given  him.” 
—Froissart,  vol.  i.  chap.  373. 


CANTO  m.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


105 


Despite  tliy  arrows,  and  thy  bow, 

I’ll  have  thee  hang’d  to  feed  the  crow !  ” — 


xx. 

“  Gramercy,  for  thy  good-will,  fair  boy ! 

My  mind  was  never  set  so  high ; 

But  if  thou  art  chief  of  such  a  clan, 

And  art  the  son  of  such  a  man, 

And  ever  comest  to  thy  command, 

Our  wardens  had  need  to  keep  good  order ; 
My  bow  of  yew  to  a  hazel  wand, 

Thou’lt  make  them  work  upon  the  Border. 
Meantime,  be  pleased  to  come  with  me, 

For  good  Lord  Dacre  shalt  thou  see; 

I  think  our  work  is  well  bemm, 

When  we  have  taken  thy  father’s  son.” 


XXI. 

Although  the  child  was  led  away, 

In  Branksome  still  he  seem’d  to  stay, 
For  so  the  Dwarf  his  part  did  play ; 
And,  in  the  shape  of  that  young  boy, 
He  wrought  the  castle  much  annoy. 

The  comrades  of  the  young  Buccleuch 
He  pinch’d,  and  beat,  and  overthrew ; 
Nay,  some  ot‘  them  he  wellnigh  slew. 
Pie  tore  Dame  Maudlin’s  silken  tire, 
And,  as  Sym  Hall  stood  by  the  fire, 

He  lighted  the  match  of  his  bandelier, 1 

1  Bandelier ,  belt  for  carrying  ammunition. 


106 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  III. 


And  wofully  scorch’d  the  liackbuteer.1 
It  may  be  hardly  thought  or  said, 

The  mischief  that  the  urchin  made, 

Till  many  of  the  castle  guess’d, 

That  the  young  Baron  was  possess’d  ! 

XXII. 

Well  I  ween  the  charm  he  held 
The  noble  Ladye  had  soon  dispell’d  ; 

But  she  was  deeply  busied  then 
To  tend  the  wounded  Deloraine. 

Much  she  wonder’d  to  find  him  lie, 

On  the  stone  threshold  stretch’d  along ; 
She  thought  some  spirit  of  the  sky 

Had  done  the  bold  moss-trooper  wrong ; 
Because,  despite  her  precept  dread, 

Perchance  he  in  the  Book  had  read  ; 

But  the  broken  lance  in  his  bosom  stood, 

And  it  was  earthly  steel  and  wood. 

XXIII. 

She  drew  the  splinter  from  the  wound, 

And  with  a  charm  she  stanch’d  the  blood ; 2 

1  Eaclcbuteer ,  musketeer. 

2  See  several  charms  for  this  purpose  in  Reginald  Scott’s 
Discovery  of  Witchcraft ,  p.  273. 

“  Tom  Potts  was  but  a  serving  man, 

But  yet  he  was  a  doctor  good; 

He  bound  his  handkerchief  on  the  wound, 

And  with  some  kinds  of  words  he  stanched  the  blood.” 
Pieces  of  Ancient  Popular  Poetry,  Lond.  1791,  p.  131. 


CANTO  III.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


107 


She  bade  the  gash  be  cleansed  and  bound : 

No  longer  by  his  couch  she  stood  ; 

But  she  has  ta’en  the  broken  lance, 

And  wash’d  it  from  the  clotted  gore, 

And  salved  the  splinter  o’er  and  o’er.1 
William  of  Deloraine,  in  trance, 

Whene’er  she  turn’d  it  round  and  round, 
Twisted  as  if  she  gall’d  his  wound. 

Then  to  her  maidens  she  did  say, 

That  he  should  be  whole  man  and  sound, 
Within  the  course  of  a  night  and  day. 
Full  long  she  toil’d  ;  for  she  did  rue 
Mishap  to  friend  so  stout  and  true. 

xxiy.  2 

So  pass’d  the  day — the  evening  fell, 

’Twas  near  the  time  of  curfew  bell ; 

The  air  was  mild,  the  wind  was  calm, 

The  stream  was  smooth,  the  dew  was  balm  ; 
E’en  the  rude  watchman,  on  the  tower, 
Enjoy’d  and  bless’d  the  lovely  hour. 

Far  more  fair  Margaret  loved  and  bless’d 
The  hour  of  silence  and  of  rest. 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  W. 

2  [“  As  another  illustration  of  the  prodigious  improvement 
which  the  style  of  the  old  romance  is  capable  of  receiving 
from  a  more  liberal  admixture  of  pathetic  sentiments  and 
gentle  affections,  we  insert  the  following  passage,  Stanzas 
xxiv.  to  xxvii,,  where  the  effect  of  the  picture  is  finely 
assisted  by  the  contrast  of  its  two  compartments.”— 
Jeffrey.] 


108 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  III. 


On  the  high  turret  sitting  lone, 

She  waked  at  times  the  lute’s  soft  tone  ; 
Touch’d  a  wild  note,  and  all  between 
Thought  of  the  bower  of  hawthorns  green. 
Her  golden  hair  stream’d  free  from  band, 
Her  fair  cheek  rested  on  her  hand, 

Her  blue  eyes  sought  the  west  afar, 

For  lovers  love  the  western  star. 

XX  Y . 

Is  yon  the  star,  o’er  Penchryst  Pen, 

That  rises  slowly  to  her  ken, 

And,  spreading  broad  its  wavering  light, 
Shakes  its  loose  tresses  on  the  night  ? 

Is  yon  red  glare  the  western  star  ? — 

0,  ’tis  the  beacon-blaze  of  war  ! 

Scarce  could  she  draw  her  tighten’d  breath, 
For  well  she  knew  the  fire  of  death  ! 


XXVI. 

The  Warder  view’d  it  blazing  strong, 
And  blew  his  war-note  loud  and  long. 
Till,  at  the  high  and  haughty  sound, 
Rock,  wood,  and  river,  rung  around. 

The  blast  alarm’d  the  festal  hall, 

And  startled  forth  the  warriors  all ; 

Far  downward,  in  the  castle-yard, 

F nil  many  a  torch  and  cresset  glared  ; 
And  helms  and  plumes,  confusedly  toss’d, 
Were  in  the  blaze  half-seen,  half-lost; 


CANTO  III.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  109 

And  spears  in  wild  disorder  shook, 

Like  reeds  beside  a  frozen  brook. 

XXVII. 

The  Seneschal,  whose  silver  hair 
Was  redden’d  by  the  torches’  glare, 

Stood  in  the  midst,  with  gesture  proud, 

And  issued  forth  his  mandates  loud  : — 

“  On  Penchryst  glows  a  bale1  of  fire, 

And  three  are  kindling  on  Priesthaughswire  ; 
Ride  out,  ride  out, 

The  foe  to  scout ! 


1  Bale ,  beacon-fagot.  The  Border  beacons,  from  their 
number  and  position,  formed  a  sort  of  telegraphic  communi¬ 
cation  with  Edinburgh. — The  act  of  Parliament  1455,  c.  48, 
directs,  that  one  bale  or  fagot  shall  be  warning  of  the  ap¬ 
proach  of  the  English  in  any  manner;  two  bales  that  they  are 
coming  indeed ;  four  bales,  blazing  beside  each  other,  that  the 
enemy  are  in  great  force.  “  The  same  taikenings  to  be  watched 
and  maid  at  Eggerhope  (Eggerstand)  Castell,  fra  they  se 
the  fire  of  Hume,  that  they  fire  right  swa.  And  in  like  man¬ 
ner  on  Sowtra  Edge,  sail  se  the  fire  of  Eggerhope  Castell, 
and  mak  taikening  in  like  manner:  And  then  may  all  Lou- 
thaine  be  warned,  and  in  special  the  Castell  of  Edinburgh; 
and  their  four  fires  to  be  made  in  like  manner,  that  they 
in  Fife,  and  fra  Striveling  east,  and  the  east  part  of  Louthiane, 
and  to  Dunbar,  all  may  se  them,  and  come  to  the  defence 
of  the  realme.”  These  beacons  (at  least  in  latter  times) 
were  a  “  long  and  strong  tree  set  up,  with  a  long  iron  pole 
across  the  head  of  it,  and  an  iron  brander  fixed  on  a  stalk  in 
the  middle  of  it,  for  holding  a  tar-barrel.” — Stevenson’s 
Eisiot'y,  vol.  ii.  p.  701. 


no 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  III. 


Mount,  mount  for  Branksome,1  every  man ! 
Thou,  Todrig,  warn  the  Johnstone  clan, 
That  ever  are  true  and  stout — 

Ye  need  not  send  to  Liddesdale  ; 

For  when  they  see  the  blazing  bale, 
Elliots  and  Armstrongs  never  fail. — 

Bide,  Alton,  ride,  for  death  and  life  ! 

And  warn  the  Warden  of  the  strife. 

Young  Gilbert,  let  our  beacon  blaze, 

Our  kin,  and  clan,  and  friends,  to  raise.”  2 


xxviii. 

Fair  Margaret,  from  the  turret  head, 

Heard,  far  below,  the  coursers’  tread, 

While  loud  the  harness  rung, 

As  to  their  seats,  with  clamour  dread, 

The  ready  horsemen  sprung  : 

And  trampling  hoofs,  and  iron  coats, 

And  leaders’  voices,  mingled  notes, 

And  out !  and  out ! 

In  hasty  route, 

The  horsemen  gallop’d  forth  ; 

Dispersing  to  the  south  to  scout, 

And  east,  and  west,  and  north, 

To  view  their  coming  enemies, 

And  warn  their  vassals  and  allies. 

1  Mount  for  Branksome  was  the  gathering  word  of  the 
Scotts. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  X. 


CANTO  III. J  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


Ill 


XXIX. 

The  ready  page,  with  hurried  hand,1 

Awaked  the  need-fire’s 2  slumbering  brand, 
And  ruddy  blush’d  the  heaven  : 

For  a  sheet  of  flame,  from  the  turret  high. 

Waved  like  a  blood-flag  on  the  sky, 

All  flaring  and  uneven  ; 

And  soon  a  score  of  fires,  I  ween, 

From  height,  and  hill,  and  cliff,  were  seen  ; 

Each  with  warlike  tidings  fraught ; 

Each  from  each  the  signal  caught ; 

Each  after  each  they  glanced  to  sight, 

As  stars  arise  upon  the  night. 

They  gleam’d  on  many  a  dusky  tarn,3 

Haunted  by  the  lonely  earn  ; 4 

On  many  a  cairn’s5  gray  pyramid, 

Where  urns  of  mighty  chiefs  he  hid ; 

1  [“  We  absolutely  see  the  fires  kindling,  one  after  another, 
in  the  following  animated  description.” — Annual  Review , 
1804.] 

2  Need-fire ,  beacon.  3  Tarn ,  a  mountain  lake. 

4  Earn,  a  Scottish  eagle. 

5  The  cairns,  or  piles  of  loose  stones,  which  crown  the  sum¬ 
mit  of  most  of  our  Scottish  hills,  and  are  found  in  other  re¬ 
markable  situations,  seem  usually,  though  not  universally,  to 
have  been  sepulchral  monuments.  Six  flat  stones  are  com¬ 
monly  found  in  the  centre,  forming  a  cavity  of  greater  or 
smaller  dimensions,  in  which  an  urn  is  often  placed.  The 

author  is  possessed  of  one,  discovered  beneath  an  immense 
cairn  at  Roughlee,  in  Liddesdale.  It  is  of  the  most  barbarous 
construction;  the  middle  of  the  substance  alone  having  been 
subjected  to  the  fire,  over  which,  when  hardened,  the  artist 


112 


THE  LAY  OF 


\ CANTO  III. 


Till  high  Dunedin  the  blazes  saw, 

From  Soltra  and  Dumpender  Law  ; 

And  Lothian  heard  the  Regent’s  order, 

That  all  should  bowne 1  them  for  the  Border. 


XXX. 

The  livelong  night  in  Branksome  rang 
The  ceaseless  sound  of  steel ; 

The  castle-bell,  with  backward  clang, 

Sent  forth  the  larum  peal ; 

Was  frequent  heard  the  heavy  jar, 

Where  massy  stone  and  iron  bar 
Were  piled  on  echoing  keep  and  tower, 

To  whelm  the  foe  with  deadly  shower ; 

Was  frequent  heard  the  changing  guard, 

And  watchword  from  the  sleepless  ward ; 
While,  wearied  by  the  endless  din, 

Bloodhound  and  ban-dog  yell’d  within. 

XXXI. 

The  noble  Dame,  amid  the  broil, 

Shared  the  gray  Seneschal’s  high  toil, 

And  spoke  of  danger  with  a  smile ; 

Cheer’d  the  young  knights,  and  council  sage 

had  laid  an  inner  and  outer  coat  of  unbaked  clay,  etched  with 
some  very  rude  ornaments ;  his  skill  apparently  being  inade¬ 
quate  to  baking  the  vase,  when  completely  finished.  The 
contents  were  bones  and  ashes,  and  a  quantity  of  beads 
made  of  coal.  This  seems  to  have  been  a  barbarous  imita¬ 
tion  of  the  Roman  fashion  of  sepulture. 

1  Bourne,  make  ready. 


CANTO  III.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


113 


Held  with  the  chiefs  of  riper  age. 

No  tidings  of  the  foe  were  brought, 

Nor  of  his  numbers  knew  they  aught, 

Nor  what  in  time  of  truce  he  sought. 

Some  said,  that  there  were  thousands  ten ; 
And  others  ween’d  that  it  was  nought 
But  Leven  Clans,  or  Tynedale  men, 

Who  came  to  gather  in  black-mail ; 1 
And  Liddesdale,  with  small  avail, 

Might  drive  them  lightly  back  agen. 

So  pass’d  the  anxious  night  away, 

And  welcome  was  the  peep  of  day. 


Ceased  the  high  sound — the  listening  throng 
Applaud  the  Master  of  the  Song  ; 

And  marvel  much,  in  helpless  age, 

So  hard  should  be  his  pilgrimage. 

Had  he  no  friend — no  daughter  dear, 

His  wandering  toil  to  share  and  cheer  ; 

No  son  to  be  his  father’s  stay, 

And  guide  him  on  the  rugged  way  ? 

“  Ay,  once  he  had — but  he  was  dead  !  ” — 
Upon  the  harp  he  stoop’d  his  head, 

And  busied  himself  the  strings  withal, 

To  hide  the  tear  that  fain  would  fall. 


1  Protection-money  exacted  by  freebooters. 

YOL.  I.  8 


114  THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  [CANTO  HI. 

In  solemn  measure,  soft  and  slow, 

Arose  a  father’s  notes  of  woe.1 

1  [“  Nothing  can  excel  the  simple  concise  pathos  of  the 
close  of  this  Canto — nor  the  touching  picture  of  the  Bard 
when,  with  assumed  business ,  he  tries  to  conceal  real  sorrow. 
How  well  the  poet  understands  the  art  of  contrast — and  how 
judiciously  it  is  exerted  in  the  exordium  of  the  next  Canto, 
where  our  mourning  sympathy  is  exchanged  for  the  thrill  of 
pleasure!” — Anna  Seward.] 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


CANTO  FOURTH. 


THE 


# 

LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  FOURTH. 


I. 

Sweet  Teviot!  on  thy  silver  tide 
The  glaring  bale-fires  blaze  no  more  ; 
No  longer  steel-elad  warriors  ride 
Along  thy  wild  and  willow’d  shore ; 1 
Wher  e’er  thou  wind’s!,  by  dale  or  hill, 
All,  all  is  peaceful,  all  is  still, 

As  if  thy  waves,  since  Time  was  born, 
Since  first  they  roll’d  upon  the  Tweed,2 
Had  only  heard  the  shepherd’s  reed, 

Nor  started  at  the  bugle-horn. 


1  [“  What  luxury  of  sound  in  this  line!” — Anna  Sew¬ 
ard. J 

2  [  Oriy.  “  Since  first  they  rolled  their  way  to  Tweed.”] 


118 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


II. 

Unlike  the  tide  of  human  time, 

Which,  though  it  change  in  ceaseless  flow, 
Retains  each  grief,  retains  each  crime, 

Its  earliest  course  was  doom’d  to  know  ; 
And,  darker  as  it  downward  bears, 

Is  stain’d  with  past  and  present  tears. 

Low  as  that  tide  has  ebb’d  with  me, 

It  still  reflects  to  Memory’s  eye 
The  hour  my  brave,  my  only  boy, 

Fell  by  the  side  of  great  Dundee.1 
Why,  when  the  volleying  musket  play’d 
Against  the  bloody  Highland  blade, 

Why  was  not  I  beside  him  laid  ! — 

Enough — he  died  the  death  of  fame  ; 
Enough — he  died  with  conquering  Graeme.2 


1  The  Viscount  of  Dundee,  slain  in  the  battle  of  Killi- 
crankie. 

•2  [  “  Some  of  the  most  interesting  passages  of  the  poem  are 
those  in  which  the  author  drops  the  business  of  his  story  to 
moralize  and  apply  to  his  own  situation  the  images  and  re¬ 
flections  it  has  suggested.  After  concluding  one  Canto  with 
an  account  of  the  warlike  array  which  was  prepared  for  the 
reception  of  the  English  invaders,  he  opens  the  succeeding 
one  with  the  following  beautiful  verses,  (Stanzas  i.  and  ii.) 

“There  are  several  other  detached  passages  of  equal 
beauty,3  which  might  be  quoted  in  proof  of  the  effect  which 
is  produced  by  this  dramatic  interference  of  the  narrator.” — 
Jeffrey.] 

3  [No  one  will  dissent  from  this,  who  reads,  in  particular, 
the  first  two  and  heart-glowing  stanzas  of  Canto  VI. — now , 
by  association  of  the  past,  rendered  the  more  affecting. — Ed.] 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


119 


III. 

Now  over  Border  dale  and  fell, 

Full  wide  and  far  was  terror  spread  ; 

For  pathless  marsh,  and  mountain  cell, 

The  peasant  left  his  lowly  shed.1 

1  The  morasses  were  the  usual  refuge  of  the  Border  herds¬ 
men,  on  the  approach  of  an  English  army. — {Minstrelsy  of 
the  Scottish  Border ,  vol.  i.  p.  393.)  Caves,  hewed  in  the  most 
dangerous  and  inaccessible  places,  also  afforded  an  occa¬ 
sional  retreat.  Such  caverns  may  be  seen  in  the  precipitous 
banks  of  the  Teviot  at  Sunlaws,  upon  the  Ale  at  Ancram, 
upon  the  Jed  at  Hundalee,  and  in  many  other  places  upon 
the  Border.  The  banks  of  the  Eske,  at  Gorton  and  Haw- 
thornden,  are  hollowed  into  similar  recesses.  But  even 
these  dreary  dens  were  not  always  secure  places  of  conceal¬ 
ment.  “  In  the  way  as  we  came,  not  far  from  this  place, 
(Long  Niddry,)  George  Ferres,  a  gentleman  of  my  Lord  Pro¬ 
tector’s  .  happened  upon  a  cave  in  the 

grounde,  the  mouth  whereof  was  so  worne  with  the  fresh 
printe  of  steps,  that  he  seemed  to  be  certayne  thear  wear 
some  folke  within  ;  and  gone  doune  to  trie,  he  was  redily 
receyved  with  a  hakebut  or  two.  He  left  them  not  yet,  till  he 
had  known  wheyther  thei  wold  be  content  to  yield  and  come 
out;  which  they  fondly  refusing,  he  went  to  my  lorde’s 
grace,  and  upon  utterance  of  the  thynge,  gat  licence  to  deale 
with  them  as  he  coulde;  and  so  returned  to  them,  with  a 
skore  or  two  of  pioners.  Three  ventes  had  their  cave,  that 
we  wear  ware  of,  whereof  he  first  stopt  up  on ;  anoother  he 
fill’d  full  of  strawe,  and  set  it  a  fyer,  wkereat  they  within 
cast  water  apace;  but  it  was  so  wel  maynteyned  without, 
that  the  fyer  prevayled,  and  thei  within  fayn  to  get  them 
belyke  into  anoother  parler.  Then  devysed  we  (for  I  hapt 
to  be  with  him)  to  stop  the  same  up,  whereby  we  should 
eyther  smoother  them,  or  fynd  out  their  ventes,  if  thei  hadde 
any  moe :  as  this  was  done  at  another  issue,  about  xii  score 
of,  we  moughte  see  the  fume  of  their  smoke  to  come  out:  the 
which  continued  with  so  great  a  force,  and  so  long  a  while, 


120 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  IV. 


The  frighten’d  flocks  and  herds  were  pent 
Beneath  the  peel’s  rude  battlement ; 

And  maids  and  matrons  dropp’d  the  tear, 

While  ready  warriors  seized  the  spear. 

From  B  rank  some’s  towers,  the  watchman’s  eye 
Dun  wreaths  of  distant  smoke  can  spy, 

Which,  curling  in  the  rising  sun, 

Show’d  southern  ravage  was  begun.1 

IV. 

Now  loud  the  heedful  gate-ward  cried — 

“  Prepare  ye  all  for  blows  and  blood ! 

Watt  Tinlinn,2  from  the  Liddel-side, 

that  we  could  not  but  tliinke  they  must  needs  get  them  out, 
or  smoother  within:  and  forasmuch  as  we  found  not  that 
they  dyd  the  tone,  we  thought  it  for  certain  thei  wear  sure  of 
the  toother.” — Patten’s  Account  of  Somerset’s  Expedition 
into  Scotland ,  apud  Dalyell’s  Fragments. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  Y. 

2  This  person  was,  in  my  younger  days,  the  theme  of 
many  a  fireside  tale.  He  was  a  retainer  of  the  Buccleuch 
family,  and  held  for  his  Border  service  a  small  tower  on  the 
frontiers  of  Liddesdale.  Watt  was,  by  profession,  a  sutor , 
but,  by  inclination  and  practice,  an  archer  and  warrior.  Upon 
one  occasion,  the  captain  of  Bowcastle,  military  governor  of 
that  wild  district  of  Cumberland,  is  said  to  have  made  an 
incursion  into  Scotland,  in  which  he  was  defeated  and  forced 
to  fly.  Watt  Tinlinn  pursued  him  closely  through  a  danger¬ 
ous  morass;  the  captain,  however,  gained  the  firm  ground; 
and  seeing  Tinlinn  dismounted,  and  floundering  in  the  bog, 
used  these  words  of  insult:  “  Sutor  Watt,  ye  cannot  sew 
your  boots;  the  heels  risp ,  and  the  seams  rive."  3  “  If  I 

3  Risp ,  creak.  Rive,  tear. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


121 


Comes  wading  through  the  flood.1 
■*  Full  oft  the  Tynedale  snatchers  knock 
At  his  lone  gate,  and  prove  the  lock  ; 

It  was  but  last  St.  Barnabright 
They  sieged  him  a  whole  summer  night, 
But  fled  at  morning  ;  well  they  knew, 

In  vain  he  never  twang’d  the  yew. 

Right  sharp  has  been  the  evening  shower, 
That  drove  him  from  his  Liddel  tower  ; 
And,  by  my  faith,”  the  gate-ward  said, 

“I  think  ’twill  prove  a  Warden-Raid.”  2 


Y. 

While  thus  he  spoke,  the  bold  yeoman  3 
Enter’d  the  echoing  barbican. 

cannot  sew,”  retorted  Tinlinn,  discharging  a  shaft,  which 
nailed  the  captain’s  thigh  to  his  saddle,  “  If  I  cannot  sew,  I 
can  yerk .”  4 

4  Yerk ,  to  twitch,  as  shoemakers  do,  in  securing  the 
stitches  of  their  work. 

1  [“  And  when  they  cam  to  Bi’anksome  ha’, 

They  shouted  a’  baith  loud  and  hie, 

Till  up  and  spak  him  auld  Buccleuch, 

Said — ‘  Whae’s  this  brings  the  fraye  to  me?  ’  — 

‘  It’s  I,  Jamie  Telfer,  o’  the  fair  Dodhead, 

And  a  harried  man  I  think  I  be,’  ”  &c. 

Border  Minstrelsy ,  vol.  ii.  p.  8.J 

2  An  inroad  commanded  by  the  Warden  in  person. 

3  [“  The  dawn  displays  the  smoke  of  ravaged  fields,  and 
shepherds,  with  their  flocks,  flying  before  the  storm.  Ti¬ 
dings  brought  by  a  tenant  of  the  family,  not  used  to  seek  a 
shelter  on  light  occasions  of  alarm,  disclose  the  strength  and 


-  122 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


He  led  a  small  and  shaggy  nag, 

That  through  a  hog,  from  hag  to  hag,1 
Could  bound  like  any  Billhope  stag.2 
It  bore  his  wife  and  children  twain  ; 

A  half-clothed  serf 3  was  all  their  train  : 


object  of  the  invaders.  This  man  is  a  character  of  a  lower 
and  of  a  rougher  cast  than  Deloraine.  The  portrait  of  the 
rude  retainer  is  sketched  with  the  same  masterly  hand. 
Here,  again,  Mr.  Scott  has  trod  in  the  footsteps  of  the  old 
romancers,  who  confine  not  themselves  to  the  display  of  a 
few  personages  who  stalk  over  the  stage  on  stately  stilts,  but 
usually  reflect  all  the  varieties  of  character  that  marked  the 
era  to  which  they  belong.  The  interesting  example  of  man¬ 
ners  thus  preserved  to  us,  is  not  the  only  advantage  which 
results  from  this  peculiar  structure  of  their  plan.  It  is  this, 
amongst  other  circumstances,  which  enables  them  to  carry 
us  along  with  them,  under  I  know  not  what  species  of  fasci¬ 
nation,  and  to  make  us,  as  it  were,  credulous  spectators  of 
their  most  extravagant  scenes.  In  this  they  seem  to  resem¬ 
ble  the  painter,  who,  in  the  delineation  of  a  battle,  while  he 
places  the  adverse  heroes  of  the  day  combating  in  the  front, 
takes  care  to  fill  his  background  with  subordinate  figures, 
whose  appearance  adds  at  once  both  spirit  and  an  air  of  prob¬ 
ability  to  the  scene.” — Critical  Review ,  1805.] 

1  The  broken  ground  in  a  bog. 

2  There  is  an  old  rhyme,  which  thus  celebrates  the  places 
in  Liddesdale  remarkable  for  game : — 

“  Billhope  braes  for  bucks  and  raes, 

And  Carit  liaugh  for  swine, 

And  Tarras  for  the  good  bull-trout, 

If  he  be  ta’en  in  time.” 

The  bucks  and  roes,  as  well  as  the  old  swine,  are  now  ex¬ 
tinct;  but  the  good  bull-trout  is  still  famous. 

3  Bondsman. 


CANTO  IV.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


123 


His  wife,  stout,  ruddy,  and  dark-brow5 d, 
Of  silver  brooch  and  bracelet  proud,1 
Laugh’d  to  her  friends  among  the  crowd. 
He  was  of  stature  passing  tall, 


But  sparely  form’d,  and  lean  withal ; 


A  batter’d  morion  on  his  brow  ; 

A  leather  jack,  as  fence  enow, 

On  his  broad  shoulders  loosely  hung  ; 

A  Border  axe  behind  was  slung ; 

His  spear,  six  Scottish  ells  in  length, 
Seem’d  newly  dyed  with  gore  ; 


His  shafts  and  bow,  of  wondrous  strength, 
His  hardy  partner  bore. 


YI. 

Thus  to  the  Ladye  did  Tinlinn  show 
The  tidings  of  the  English  foe  : — 

“  Belted  Will  Howard 2  is  marching  here, 

And  hot  Lord  Dacre,3  with  many  a  spear, 

And  all  the  German  hackbut-men,4 
Who  have  long  lain  at  Askerten  : 

They  cross’d  the  Liddel  at  curfew  hour, 

And  burn’d  my  little  lonely  tower  : 

1  As  the  Borderers  were  indifferent  about  the  furniture  of 
their  habitations,  so  much  exposed  to  be  burned  and  plun¬ 
dered,  they  were  proportionally  anxious  to  display  splendour 
in  decorating  and  ornamenting  their  females. — See  Lesley 
de  Morihus  Limitaneorum. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  Z.  3  See  Appendix,  Note  A  2. 

4  Musketeers.  See  Appendix,  Note  B  2. 


124 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  IV. 


The  fiend  receive  their  souls  therefor ! 

It  had  not  been  burnt  this  year  and  more. 
Barnyard  and  dwelling,  blazing  bright, 

Served  to  guide  me  on  my  flight ; 

But  I  was  chased  the  livelong  night. 

Black  John  of  Akesliaw,  and  Furgus  Grteme, 
Fast  upon  my  traces  came, 

Until  I  turn’d  at  Priesthaugh  Scrogg, 

And  shot  their  horses  in  the  bog, 

Slew  Fergus  with  my  lance  outright — 

I  had  him  long  at  high  despite  : 

He  drove  my  cows  last  Fastern’s  night.” 

VII. 

Now  weary  scouts  from  Liddesdale, 

Fast  hurrying  in,  confirm’d  the  tale ; 

As  far  as  they  could  judge  by  ken, 

Three  hours  would  bring  to  Teviot’s  strand 
Three  thousand  armed  Englishmen — 
Meanwhile,  full  many  a  warlike  band, 
From  Teviot,  Aill,  and  Ettrick  shade, 

Came  in,  their  Chief’s  defence  to  aid. 

There  was  saddling  and  mounting  in  haste, 
There  was  pricking  o’er  moor  and  lea  ; 
He  that  was  last  at  the  trysting-place 
Was  but  lightly  held  of  his  gay  ladye.1 


1  [The  last  four  lines  of  stanza  vii.  are  not  in  the  1st  Edi¬ 
tion. — Ed.  | 


CANTO  IV. J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


125 


VIII. 

From  fair  St.  Mary’s  silver  wave, 

From  dreary  Gamescleugh’s  dusky  height, 
Flis  ready  lances  Thirlestane  brave 
Array’d  beneath  a  banner  bright. 

The  tressured  fleur-de-luce  he  claims 
To  wreathe  his  shield,  since  royal  James, 
Encamp’d  by  Fala’s  mossy  wave, 

The  proud  distinction  grateful  gave, 

For  faith  ’mid  feudal  jars ; 

What  time,  save  Thirlestane  alone, 

Of  Scotland’s  stubborn  barons  none 
Would  march  to  Southern  wars  ; 

And  hence,  in  fair  remembrance  worn, 

Yon  sheaf  of  spears  his  crest  has  borne  ; 
Hence  his  high  motto  shines  reveal’d — 

“  Ready,  aye  ready,”  for  the  field.1 

IX. 

An  aged  Knight,  to  danger  steel’d, 

With  many  a  moss-trooper,  came  on  ; 

And  azure  in  a  golden  field, 

The  stars  and  crescent  graced  his  shield, 
Without  the  bend  of  Murdieston.2 
Wide  lay  his  lands  round  Oakwood  tower, 
And  wide  round  haunted  Castle-Ower ; 

High  over  Borthwick’s  mountain  flood, 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  C  2. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  D  2. 


126 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CAJSITO  IV 


His  wood-embosomed  mansion  stood  ; 

In  the  dark  glen,  so  deep  below, 

The  herds  of  plunder’d  England  low  ; 

His  bold  retainers’  daily  food, 

And  bought  with  danger,  blows,  and  blood. 
Marauding  chief!  his  sole  delight 
The  moonlight  raid,  the  morning  fight ; 

Not  even  the  Flower  of  Yarrow’s  charms, 
In  youth,  might  tame  his  rage  for  arms  ; 
And  still,  in  age,  he  spurn’d  at  rest, 

And  still  his  brows  the  helmet  press’d, 
Albeit  the  blanched  locks  below 
Were  white  as  Dinlay’s  spotless  snow ; 
Five  stately  warriors  drew  the  sword 
Before  their  father’s  band ; 

A  braver  knight  than  Harden’s  lord 
Ne’er  belted  on  a  brand.1 


Scotts  of  Eskdale,  a  stalwart  band,3 

1  [See,  besides  the  note  on  this  stanza,  one  in  the  Border 
Minstrelsy ,  vol.  ii.  p.  10,  respecting  Wat  of  Harden,  the  Au¬ 
thor’s  ancestor. 

A  satii’ical  piece,  entitled  “  The  Town  Eclogue,”  which 
made  much  noise  in  Edinburgh  shortly  after  the  appearance 
of  The  Minstrelsy ,  has  these  lines :  — 

“  A  modern  author  spends  a  hundred  leaves, 

To  prove  his  ancestors  notorious  thieves.” — Ed.] 

2  [Stanzas  x.  xi.  xii.  were  not  in  the  1st  Edition.] 

3  In  this  and  the  following  stanzas,  some  account  is  given 
of  the  mode  in  which  the  property  in  the  valley  of  Eske  was 
transferred  from  the  Beattisons,  its  ancient  possessors,  to  the 


CAXTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


127 


Came  trooping  down  the  Todshawhill ; 

By  the  sword  they  won  their  land, 

And  by  the  sword  they  hold  it  still. 

Hearken,  Ladye,  to  the  tale, 

How  thy  sires  won  fair  Eskdale. — 

Earl  Morton  was  lord  of  that  valley  fair, 

The  Beattisons  were  his  vassals  there. 

The  Earl  was  gentle,  and  mild  of  mood, 

The  vassals  were  warlike,  and  fierce,  and  rude  ; 
High  of  heart,  and  haughty  of  word, 

Little  they  reck’d  of  a  tame  liege  lord. 

The  Earl  into  fair  Eskdale  came, 

Homage  and  seignory  to  claim  : 

Of  Gilbert  the  Galliard  a  heriot 1  he  sought, 
Saying,  “  Give  thy  best  steed,  as  a  vassal  ought.” 
— “  Dear  to  me  is  my  bonny  white  steed, 

Oft  has  he  help’d  me  at  pinch  of  need  ; 

Lord  and  Earl  though  thou  be,  I  trow, 

I  can  rein  Bucksfoot  better  than  thou.” — 


name  of  Scott.  It  is  needless  to  repeat  the  circumstances, 
which  are  given  in  the  poem,  literally  as  they  have  been  pre¬ 
served  by  tradition.  Lord  Maxwell,  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  took  upon  himself  the  title  of  Earl  of 
Morton.  The  descendants  of  Beattison  of  Woodkerrick,  who 
aided  the  Earl  to  escape  from  his  disobedient  vassals,  con¬ 
tinued  to  hold  these  lands  within  the  memory  of  man,  and 
were  the  only  Beattisons  who  had  property  in  the  dale.  The 
old  people  give  locality  to  the  story,  by  showing  the  Gal- 
liard’s  Haugh,  the  place  where  Buccleuch’s  men  were  con¬ 
cealed,  &c. 

1  The  feudal  superior,  in  certain  cases,  was  entitled  to  the 
best  horse  of  the  vassal,  in  name  of  Heriot,  or  Herezeld. 


128 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


Word  on  word  gave  fuel  to  fire, 

Till  so  highly  blazed  the  Beattison’s  ire, 

But  that  the  Earl  the  flight  had  ta’en, 

The  vassals  there  their  lord  had  slain. 

Sore  he  plied  both  whip  and  spur, 

As  he  urged  his  steed  through  Eskdale  muir ; 
And  it  fell  down  a  weary  weight, 

Just  on  the  threshold  of  Branksome  gate. 

XT. 

The  Earl  was  a  wrathful  man  to  see, 

Full  fain  avenged  would  he  be. 

In  haste  to  Branksome’s  Lord  he  spoke, 
Saying — “  Take  these  traitors  to  thy  yoke  ; 
For  a  cast  of  hawks,  and  a  purse  of  gold, 

All  Eskdale  I’ll  sell  thee,  to  have  and  hold : 
Beshrew  thy  heart,  of  the  Beattisons’  clan 
If  thou  leavest  on  Eske  a  landed  man  ; 

But  spare  Woodkerrick’s  lands  alone, 

For  he  lent  me  his  horse  to  escape  upon.” 

A  glad  man  then  was  Branksome  bold, 

Down  he  flung  him  the  purse  of  gold ; 

To  Eskdale  soon  he  spurr’d  amain, 

And  with  him  five  hundred  riders  has  ta’en. 
He  left  his  merrymen  in  the  mist  of  the  hill, 
And  bade  them  hold  them  close  and  still ; 
And  alone  he  wended  to  the  plain, 

To  meet  with  the  Galliard  and  all  his  train. 
To  Gilbert  the  Galliard  thus  he  said  :  — 

“  Know  thou  me  for  thy  liege-lord  and  head ; 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


129 


Deal  not  with  me  as  with  Morton  tame, 

For  Scotts  play  best  at  the  roughest  game. 
Give  me  in  peace  my  heriot  due, 

Thy  bonny  white  steed,  or  thou  shalt  rue. 

If  my  horn  I  three  times  wind, 

Eskdale  shall  long  have  the  sound  in  mind.” — 

XII. 

Loudly  the  Beattison  laugh’d  in  scorn  ; 

“  Little  care  we  for  thy  winded  horn. 

Ne’er  shall  it  be  the  Galliard’s  lot, 

To  yield  his  steed  to  a  haughty  Scott. 

Wend  thou  to  Branksome  back  on  foot, 

With  rusty  spur  and  miry  boot.” — 

He  blew  his  bugle  so  loud  and  hoarse, 

That  the  dun  deer  started  at  far  Craikcross  ; 
He  blew  again  so  loud  and  clear, 

Through  the  gray  mountain-mist  there  did  lances 
appear ; 

And  the  third  blast  rang  with  such  a  din, 

That  the  echoes  answer'd  from  Pentoun-linn, 
And  all  his  riders  came  lightly  in. 

Then  had  you  seen  a  gallant  shock, 

When  saddles  were  emptied,  and  lances  broke ! 
For  each  scornful  word  the  Galliard  had  said, 
A  Beattison  on  the  field  was  laid. 

His  own  good  sword  the  chieftain  drew, 

And  he  bore  the  Galliard  through  and  through  ; 
Where  the  Beattisons’  blood  mix’d  with  the  rill, 
The  Galliard’s  Ilaugh  men  call  it  still. 

9 


YOL.  I. 


130 


THE  LAY  OF 


f  CANTO  IV. 


The  Scotts  have  scatter’d  the  Beattison  clan, 

In  Eskdale  they  left  but  one  landed  man. 

The  valley  of  Eske,  from  the  mouth  to  the 
source, 

Was  lost  and  won  for  that  bonny  white  horse. 

XIII. 

Whitslade  the  Hawk,  and  Headshaw  came, 
And  warriors  more  than  I  may  name  ; 

From  Yarrow-cleugh  to  Hindhaugh-swair,1 
From  Woodhouselie  to  Chester-idem 
Troop’d  man  and  horse,  and  bow  and  spear ; 

Their  gathering  word  was  Bellenden.2 
And  better  hearts  o’er  Border  sod 
To  siege  or  rescue  never  rode. 

The  Ladye  mark’d  the  aids  come  in, 

And  high  her  heart  of  pride  arose  : 

She  bade  her  youthful  son  attend, 

That  he  might  know  his  father’s  friend, 

And  learn  to  face  his  foes. 

“  The  boy  is  ripe  to  look  on  war  ; 

I  saw  him  draw  a  crossbow  stiff, 

And  his  true  arrow  struck  afar 

1  [This  and  the  three  following  lines  are  not  in  the  first 
edition. — Ed.] 

2  Bellenden  is  situated  near  the  head  of  Borthwick  water, 
and  being  in  the  centre  of  the  possessions  of  the  Scotts,  was 
frequently  used  as  their  place. of  rendezvous  and  gathering 
word. — Survey  of  Selkirkshire ,  in  Macf aricine's  MSS.,  Advo¬ 
cates’  Library.  Hence  Satchells  calls  one  part  of  his  genea¬ 
logical  account  of  the  families  of  that  clan,  his  Bellenden. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


131 


The  raven’s  nest  upon  the  cliff ; 

The  red  cross,  on  a  southern  breast, 

Is  broader  than  the  raven’s  nest : 

Thou,  Whitslade,  shalt  teach  him  his  weapon 
to  wield, 

And  o’er  him  hold  his  father’s  shield.” — 

XIV. 

TV" ell  may  you  think,  the  wily  page 
Cared  not  to  face  the  Ladye  sage. 

He  counterfeited  childish  fear, 

And  shriek’d,  and  shed  full  many  a  tear, 

And  moan’d  and  plain’d  in  manner  wild. 

The  attendants  to  the  Ladye  told, 

Some  fairy,  sure,  had  changed  the  child, 
That  wont  to  be  so  free  and  bold. 

Then  wrathful  was  the  noble  dame ; 

She  blush’d  blood-red  for  very  shame  : — 

“  Hence  !  ere  the  clan  his  faintness  view  ; 
Hence  with  the  weakling  to  Buccleuch  ! — 
Watt  Tinlinn,  thou  shalt  be  his  guide 
To  Rangleburn’s  lonely  side. — 

Sure  some  fell  fiend  has  cursed  our  line, 
rhat  coward  should  e’er  be  son  of  mine  !  ” — 


xv. 

A  heavy  task  Watt  Tinlinn  had, 
To  guide  the  counterfeited  lad. 
Soon  as  the  palfrey  felt  the  weight 
Of  that  ill-omen’d  elfish  freight, 


132 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


He  bolted,  sprung,  and  rear’d  amain, 

Nor  heeded  bit,  nor  curb,  nor  rein. 

It -cost  Watt  Tinlinn  mickle  toil 
To  drive  him  but  a  Scottish  mile  ; 

But  as  a  shallow  brook  they  cross’d, 

The  elf,  amid  the  running  stream, 

His  figure  changed-,  like  form  in  dream, 

And  fled,  and  shouted,  “  Lost !  lost !  lost !  ” 
Full  fast  the  urchin  ran  and  laugh’d, 

But  faster  still  a  cloth-yard  shaft 
Whistled  from  startled  Tinlinn’s  yew 
And  pierced  his  shoulder  through  and  through. 
Although  the  imp  might  not  be  slain, 

And  though  the  wound  soon  heal’d  again, 

Yet,  as  he  ran,  he  yell’d  for  pain  ; 

And  Watt  of  Tinlinn,  much  aghast, 

Rode  back  to  Branksome  fiery  fast. 

XVI. 

Soon  on  the  hill’s  steep  verge  he  stood, 

That  looks  o’er  Branksome’s  towers  and  wood  ; 
And  martial  murmurs,  from  below, 

Proclaim’d  the  approaching  southern  foe. 
Through  the  dark  wood,  in  mingled  tone, 

Were  Border  pipes  and  bugles  blown ; 

The  coursers’  neighing  he  could  ken, 

A  measured  tread  of  marching  men 
While  broke  at  times  the  solemn  hum, 

The  Almayn’s  sullen  kettle-drum  ; 

And  banners  tall,  of  crimson  sheen, 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


133 


Above  the  copse  appear  ; 

And,  glistening  through  the  hawthorns  green, 
Shine  helm,  and  shield,  and  spear. 

XVII. 

Light  forayers,.  first,  to  view  the  ground, 
Spurr’d  their  fleet  coursers  loosely  round  ; 
Behind,  in  close  array,  and  fast, 

The  Kendal  archers,  all  in  green, 

Obedient  to  the  bugle  blast, 

Advancing  from  the  wood  were  seen. 

To  back  and  guard  the  archer  band, 

Lord  Dacre’s  bill-men  were  at  hand : 

A  hardy  race,  on  Irthing  bred, 

With  kirtles  white,  and  crosses  red, 

Array’d  beneath  the  banner  tall, 

That  stream’d  o’er  Acre’s  conquer’d  wall ; 

And  minstrels,  as  they  march’d  in  order, 
Play’d,  “  Noble  Lord  Dacre,  he  dwells  on  the 
Border.” 


XVIII. 

Behind  the  English  bill  and  bow  , 

The  mercenaries,  firm  and  slow, 

Moved  on  to  fight,  in  dark  array, 

By  Conrad  led  of  Wolfenstein, 

Who  brought  the  band  from  distant  Tvhine, 
And  sold  their  blood  for  foreign  pay. 

The  camp  their  home,  their  law  the  sword, 


134 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


They  knew  no  country,  own’d  no  lord : 1 

They  were  not  arm’d  like  England’s  sons, 

But  bore  the  levin-darting  guns  ; 

Buff  coats,  all  frounced  and  ’broider’d  o’er, 

And  morsing-liorns  2  and  scarfs  they  wore  ; 

Each  better  knee  was  bared,  to  aid 

The  warriors  in  the  escalade  ; 

All,  as  they  march’d,  in  rugged  tongue, 

Songs  of  Teutonic  feuds  they  sung. 

XIX. 

But  louder  still  the  clamour  grew, 

And  louder  still  the  minstrels  blew, 

1  The  mercenary  adventurei'S,  whom,  in  1380,  the  Earl  of 
Cambridge  carried  to  the  assistance  of  the  King  of  Portugal 
against  the  Spaniards,  mutinied  for  want  of  regular  pay.  At 
an  assembly  of  their  leaders,  Sir  John  Soltier,  a  natural  son 
of  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  thus  addressed  them:  “‘I 
counsayle,  let  us  be  alle  of  one  alliance,  and  of  one  accorde, 
and  let  us  among  ourselves  reyse  up  the  baner  of  St.  George, 
and  let  us  be  frendes  to  God,  and  enemyes  to  alle  the  worlde; 
for  without  we  make  ourselfe  to  be  feared,  we  gette  nothynge.’ 

“  ‘  By  my  fayth,’  quod  Sir  William  Helmon,  ‘  ye  saye  right 
well,  and  so  let  us  do.’  They  all  agreed  with  one  vovce, 
and  so  regarded  among  them  who  shulde  be  their  capitayne. 
Then  they  advysed  in  the  case  how  they  coude  nat'  have  a 
better  capitayne  than  Sir  John  Soltier.  For  they  sulde  than 
have  good  leyser  to  do  yvel,  and  they  thought  he  was  more 
metelyer  thereto  than  any  other.  Then  they  raised  up  the 
penon  of  St.  George,  and  cried,  ‘A  Soltier!  a  Soltier!  the 
valyaunt  bastarde!  frendes  to  God,  and  enemies  to  all  the 
world!  ’  ” — Froissart,  vol.  i.  ch.  393. 

2  Powder  flasks. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


135 


When,  from  beneath  the  greenwood  tree, 

Rode  forth  Lord  Howard’s  chivalry; 

His  men-at-arms,  with  glaive  and  spear, 

Brought  up  the  battle’s  glittering  rear. 

There  many  a  youthful  knight,  full  keen 
To  gain  liis  spurs,  in  arms  was  seen  ; 

With  favour  in  his  crest,  or  glove, 

Memorial  of  his  lady  e-love. 

So  rode  they  forth  in  fair  array, 

Till  full  their  lengthen’d  lines  display  ; 

Then  call’d  a  halt,  and  made  a  stand, 

And  cried,  “  St.  George,  for  merry  England  !  ”  1 


xx. 

.Now  every  English  eye,  intent, 

On  Branksome’s  armed  towers  was  bent ; 

So  near  they  were,  that  they  might  know 
T  he  straining  harsh  of  each  crossbow ; 

On  battlement  and  bartizan 
Gleam’d  axe,  and  spear,  and  partisan  ; 

Falcon  and  culver,2  on  each  tower, 

Stood  prompt  their  deadly  hail  to  shower ; 

And  flashing  armour  frequent  broke 
From  eddying  whirls  of  sable  smoke, 

Where  upon  tower  and  turret  head, 

1[“The  stanzas,  describing  the  march  of  the  English 
forces,  and  the  investiture  of  the  Castle  of  Branxholm,  dis¬ 
play  a  great  knowledge  of  ancient  costume,  as  well  as  a  most 
picturesque  and  lively  picture  of  feudal  warfare.” — Critical 
Review.] 

2  Ancient  pieces  of  artillery. 


136 


THE  LAY  OF 


[  CANTO  IV. 


The  seething  pitch  and  molten  lead 
Keek’d,  like  a  witch’s  cauldron  red. 
While  yet  they  gaze,  the  bridges  fall, 
The  wicket  opes,  and  from  the  wall 
Hides  forth  the  hoary  Seneschal. 


XXI. 

Armed  he  rode,  all  save  the  head, 

His  white  beard  o’er  his  breastplate  spread ; 
Unbroke  by  age,  erect  his  seat, 

He  ruled  his  eager  courser’s  gait ; 

Forced  him,  with  chasten’d  fire,  to  prance, 
And,  high  curvetting,  slow  advance: 

In  sign  of  truce,  his  better  hand 
Display’d  a  peeled  willow  wand  ; 

His  squire,  attending  in  the  rear, 

Bore  high  a  gauntlet  on  a  spear.1 
When  they  espied  him  riding  out, 

Lord  Howard  and  Lord  Dacre  stout 
Sped  to  the  front  of  their  array, 

To  hear  what  this  old  knight  should  say. 


XXII. 

“  Ye  English  warden  lords,  of  you 
Demands  the  Ladye  of  Buccleuch, 

i  A  glove  upon  a  lance  was  the  emblem  of  faith  among  the 
ancient  Borderers,  who  were  wont,  when  any  one  broke  his 
word,  to  expose  this  emblem,  and  pi'oclaim  him  a  faithless 
villain  at  the  first  Border  meeting.  This  ceremony  was 
much  dreaded.  See  Lesley. 


CANTO  IV. J  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


187 


Why,  ’gainst  the  truce  of  Border  tide, 

In  hostile  guise  ye  dare  to  ride, 

With  Kendal  bow,  and  Gilsland  brand, 
And  all  yon  mercenary  band, 

Upon  the  bounds  of  fair  Scotland? 

My  Ladye  reads  you  swith  return ; 

And,  if  but  one  poor  straw  you  burn, 

Or  do  our  towers  so  much  molest, 

As  scare  one  swallow  from  her  nest, 

St.  Mary !  but  we’ll  light  a  brand 
Shall  warm  your  hearths  in  Cumberland.” 

XXIII. 

A  wrathful  man  was  Dacre’s  lord, 

But  calmer  Howard  took  the  word : 

“  May ’t  please  thy  Dame,  Sir  Seneschal, 
To  seek  the  castle’s  outward  wall, 

Our  pursuivant-at-arms  shall  show 
Both  why  we  came,  and  when  we  go.” 
The  message  sped,  the  noble  Dame 
To  the  wall’s  outward  circle  came ; 

Each  chief  around  loan’d  on  his  spear, 

To  see  the  pursuivant  appear. 

All  in  Lord  Howard’s  livery  dress’d, 

The  lion  argent  deck’d  his  breast ; 

He  led  a  boy  of  blooming  hue — 

0  sight  to  meet  a  mother’s  view ! 

It  was  the  heir  of  great  Buccleuch. 
Obeisance  meet  the  herald  made, 

And  thus  his  master’s  will  he  said. 


138 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


XXIY. 

It  irks,  high  Dame,  my  noble  Lords, 

’Gainst  ladye  fair  to  draw  their  swords  ; 

But  yet  they  may  not  tamely  see, 

All  through  the  Western  Wardenry, 

Your  law-contemning  kinsmen  ride, 

And  burn  and  spoil  the  Border-side  ; 

And  ill  beseems  your  rank  and  birth 
To  make  your  towers  a  flemens-firth.1 
We  claim  from  thee  William  of  Deloraine, 

That  he  may  suffer  march-treason  2  pain. 

It  was  but  last  St.  Cuthbert’s  even 
He  prick’d  to  Stapleton  on  Leven, 

Harried 3  the  lands  of  Richard  Musgrave, 

And  slew  his  brother  by  dint  of  glaive. 

Then,  since  a  lone  and  widow’d  Dame 
Th  ese  restless  riders  may  not  tame, 

1  An  asylum  for  outlaws. 

2  Several  species  of  offences,  peculiar  to  the  Border,  con¬ 
stituted  what  was  called  march-treason.  Among  others,  was 
the  crime  of  riding,  or  causing  to  ride,  against  the  opposite 
country  during  the  time  of  truce.  Thus,  in  an  indenture 
made  at  the  water  of  Eske,  beside  Salom,  on  the  25th  day 
of  March,  1334,  betwixt  noble  lords  and  mighty,  Sirs 
Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  Archibald  Doug¬ 
las,  Lord  of  Galloway,  a  truce  is  agreed  upon  until  the  1st 
day  of  July;  and  it  is  expressly  accorded,  “  Gif  ony  stellis 
authir  on  the  ta  part,  or  on  the  tothyr,  that  he  shall  be  hanget 
or  hoefdit;  and  gif  ony  company  stellis  any  gudes  within 
the  trieux  beforesayd,  ane  of  that  company  sail  be  hanget 
or  hoefdit,  and  the  remanant  sail  restore  the  gudys  stolen  in 
the  dubble.” — Ifistory  of  Westmoreland,  and  Cumberland ,  In- 
trod.  p.  xxxix. 

8  Plundered. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


139 


Either' receive  within  thy  towers 
Two  hundred  of  my  master’s  powers, 

Or  straight  they  sound  their  warrison,1 
And  storm  and  spoil  thy  garrison  : 

And  this  fair  boy,  to  London  led, 

Shall  good  King  Edward’s  page  be  bred.” 


XXV. 

He  ceased — and  loud  the  boy  did  cry, 
And  stretch’d  his  little  arms  on  high ; 
Implored  for  aid  each  well-known  face, 
And  strove  to  seek  the  Dame’s  embrace. 
A  moment  changed  that  Ladye’s  cheer, 
Gush’d  to  her  eye  the  unbidden  tear  ; 
She  gazed  upon  the  leaders  round, 

And  dark  and  sad  each  warrior  frown’d  ; 
Then,  deep  within  her  sobbing  breast 
She  lock’d  the  struggling  sigh  to  rest  ; 
Unalter’d  and  collected  stood, 

And  thus  replied,  in  dauntless  mood  : — 


XXVI. 

“  Say  to  your  Lords  of  high  emprise,2 
Who  war  on  women  and  on  boys, 

That  either  William  of  Deloraine 
Will  cleanse  him,  by  oath,  of  march-treason 
stain,3 

1  Note  of  assault. 

2  [  Orig.  “  Say  to  thy  Lords  of  high  emprise.”] 

8  In  dubious  cases,  the  innocence  of  Border  criminals  was 


140 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  iy\ 


Or  else  he  will  the  combat  take  ' 

’Gainst  Musgrave,  for  his  honour’s  sake. 

No  knight  in  Cumberland  so  good, 

But  William  may  count  with  him  kin  and  blood. 
Knighthood  he  took  of  Douglas’  sword,1 
When  English  blood  swell’d  Ancram’s  ford  ; 2 
And  but  Lord  Dacre’s  steed  was  wight, 

And  bare  him  ably  in  the  flight, 

Himself  had  seen  him  dubb’d  a  knight. 

For  the  young  heir  of  Branksome’s  line, 

God  be  his  aid,  and  God  be  mine  ; 

Through  me  no  friend  shall  meet  his  doom ; 
Here,  while  I  live,  no  foe  finds  room. 

Then,  if  thy  Lords  their  purpose  urge, 

Take  our  defiance  loud  and  high  ; 

Our  slogan  is  their  lyke-wake  3  dirge, 

Our  moat,  the  grave  where  they  shall  lie.” 

occasionally  referred  to  their  own  oath.  The  form  of  excusing 
bills,  or  indictments,  by  Border  oath,  ran  thus:  “  You  shall 
swear  by  heaven  above  you,  hell  beneath  you,  by  your  part 
of  Paradise,  by  all  that  God  made  in  six  days  and  seven 
nights,  and  by  God  himself,  you  are  whart  out  sackless  of  art, 
part,  way,  witting,  ridd,  kenning,  having,  or  recetting  of  any 
of  the  goods  and  cattels  named  in  this  bill.  So  help  you 
God.” — History  of  Cumberland ,  Introd.  p.  xxv. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  E  2. 

2  The  battle  of  Ancram  Moor,  or  Penielheuch,  was  fought 
A.  d.  1545.  The  English,  commanded  by  Sir  Kalph  Evers, 
and  Sir  Brian  Latoun,  were  totally  routed,  and  both  their 
leaders  slain  in  the  action.  The  Scottish  army  was  com¬ 
manded  by  Archibald  Douglas,  Earl  of  Angus,  assisted  by 
the  Laird  of  Buccleuch  and  Norman  Lesley. 

8  Lyhe-walce ,  the  watching  a  corpse  previous  to  interment. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


141 


XXVII. 

Proud  she  look’d  round,  applause  to  claim — 
Then  lighten’d  Thirlestane’s  eye  of  dame ; 

His  bugle  Wat  of  Harden  blew ; 

Pensils  and  pennons  wide  were  dung, 

To  heaven  the  Border  slogan  rung, 

“  St.  Mary  for  the  young  Buccleuch !  ” 
The  English  war-cry  answer’d  wide, 

And  forward  bent  each  southern  spear; 
Each  Kendal  archer  made  a  stride, 

And  drew  the  bowstring  to  his  ear ; 

Each  minstrel’s  war-note  loud  was  blown  ; — 
But,  ere  a  gray-goose  shaft  had  down, 

A  horseman  gallop’d  from  the  rear. 

XXVIII. 

“  Ah  !  noble  Lords  !  ”  he  breathless  said, 

“  What  treason  has  your  march  betray’d  ? 
What  make  you  here,  from  aid  so  far, 

Before  you  walls,  around  you  war  ? 

Your  foemen  triumph  in  the  thought, 

That  in  the  toils  the  lion ’s  caught. 

Already  on  dark  Ruberslaw 

The  Douglas  holds  his  weapon-schaw  ; 1 

The  lances,  waving  in  his  train, 

Clothe  the  dun  heath  like  autumn  grain  ; 
And  on  the  Liddel’s  northern  strand, 

To  bar  retreat  to  Cumberland, 


1  Wtajion-schaw,  the  military  array  of  a  county. 


142 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


Lord  Maxwell  ranks  his  merry-men  good, 
Beneath  the  eagle  and  the  rood  ; 

And  Jedwood,  Eske,  and  Teviotdale, 

Have  to  proud  Angus  come ; 

And  all  the  Merse  and  Lauderdale 
Have  risen  with  haughty  Home. 

An  exile  from  Northumberland, 

In  Liddesdale  I’ve  wander’d  long  ; 

But  still  my  heart  was  with  merry  Eng¬ 
land, 

And  cannot  brook  my  country’s  wrong; 
And  hard  I’ve  spurr’d  all  night,  to  show 
The  mustering  of  the  coming  foe.” — 

o  o 


XXIX. 

“  And  let  them  come  !  ”  fierce  Dacre  cried  ; 
“  For  soon  yon  crest,  my  father’s  pride, 

That  swept  the  shores  of  Judah’s  sea, 

And  waved  in  gales  of  Galilee, 

From  Branksome’s  highest  towers  display’d, 
Shall  mock  the  rescue’s  lingering  aid  ! — 
Level  each  harquebuss  on  row  ; 

Draw,  merry  archers,  draw  the  bow  ; 

Up,  bill-men,  to  the  walls,  and  cry, 

Dacre  for  England,  win  or  die  !  ” — 


XXX. 

“  Yet  hear,”  quoth  Howard,  “  calmly  hear, 
Nor  deem  my  words  the  words  of  fear : 
For  who,  in  field  or  foray  slack, 


CANTO  IV.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


143 


Saw  the  blanche  lion  e’er  fall  back  ? 1 
But  thus  to  risk  our  Border  flower. 

In  strife  against  a  kingdom’s  power, 

1  This  was  the  cognizance  of  the  noble  house  of  Howard  in 
all  its  branches.  The  crest,  or  bearing,  of  a  warrior,  was 
often  used  as  a 'nomme  de  guerre.  Thus  Richard  III.  acquired 
his  well-known  epithet,  The  Boar  of  York.  In  the  violent 
satire  on  Cardinal  Wolsey,  written  by  Roy,  commonly,  but 
erroneously,  imputed  to  Dr.  Bull,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is 
called  the  Beautiful  Swan ,  and  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  or  Earl 
of  Surrey,  the  White  Lion.  As  the  book  is  extremely  rare, 
and  the  whole  passage  relates  to  the  emblematical  interpreta¬ 
tion  of  heraldry,  it  shall  be  here  given  at  length. 

“  The  description  of  the  Armes. 

“  Of  the  prbud  Cardinal  this  is  the  shelde, 

Borne  up  between  two  angels  of  Sathan ; 

The  six  bloudy  axes  in  a  bare  felde, 

Sheweth  the  cruelte  of  the  red  man, 

Which  hath  devoured  the  Beautiful  Swan, 

Mortal  enemy  unto  the  Whyte  Lion, 

Carter  of  Yorke,  the  vvle  butcher’s  sonne. 

The  six  bulles  heddes  in  a  felde  blacke, 

Betokeneth’his  stordy  furiousness, 

Wherefore,  the  godly  lyght  to  put  abacke, 

He  bryngeth  in  his  dyvlisii  dareness; 

The  bandog  in  the  middes  doth  expresse 
The  mastiff  curre  bred  in  Ypswich  towne, 

Gnawynge  with  his  tetli  a  kinges  crowne. 

The  cloubbe  signifieth  playne  his  tiranny, 

Covered  over  with  a  Cardinal’s  hatt, 

Wherein  shall  be  fulfilled  the  prophecy, 

Aryse  up,  Jacke,  and  put  on  thy  salatt, 

For  the  tyme  is  come  of  bagge  and  walatt. 

The  temporall  chevalry  thus  thrown  doune, 

Wherefor,  prest,  take  liede,  and  beware  thy  crowne.” 

There  were  two  copies  of  this  very  scarce  satire  in  the 


144 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


Ten  thousand  Scots  ’gainst  thousands  three, 
Certes,  were  desperate  policy. 

Nay,  take  the  terms  the  Ladye  made, 

Ere  conscious  of  the  advancing  aid  : 

Let  Musgrave  meet  fierce  Deloraine 1 
In  single  fight,  and,  if  he  gain, 

He  gains  for  us  ;  but  if  he ’s  cross’d, 

’Tis  but  a  single  warrior  lost : 

The  rest,  retreating  as  they  came, 

Avoid  defeat,  and  death,  and  shame.” 


XXXI. 

Ill  could  the  haughty  Dacre  brook 
His  brother  Warden’s  sage  rebuke  ; 
And  yet  his  forward  step  he  stayed, 
And  slow  and  sullenly  obey’d. 

But  ne’er  again  the  Border  side 
Did  these  two  lords  in  friendship  ride ; 
And  this  slight  discontent,  men  say, 
Cost  blood  upon  another  day. 


XXXII. 

The  pursuivant-at-arms  again 
Before  the  castle  took  his  stand ; 

His  trumpet  call’d,  with  parleying  strain, 

The  leaders  of  the  Scottish  band  ; 

library  of  the  late  John,  Duke  of  Roxburghe.  See  an  ac¬ 
count  of  it  also  in  Sir  Egerton  Brydges’s  curious  miscellany, 
the  Censura  Literaria. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  F  2. 


CANTO  IV.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


145 


And  he  defied,  in  Musgrave’s  right, 

Stout  Deloraine  to  single  fight ; 

A  gauntlet  at  their  feet  he  laid, 

And  thus  the  terms  of  fight  he  said : — 

“  If  in  the  lists  good  Musgrave’s  sword 
Vanquish  the  Knight  of  Deloraine, 

Your  youthful  chieftain,  Branksome’s  Lord, 
Shall  hostage  for  his  clan  remain  : 

If  Deloraine  foil  good  Musgrave, 

The  boy  his  liberty  shall  have. 

Howe’er  it  falls,  the  English  band, 
Unharming  Scots,  by  Scots  unharm’d, 

In  peaceful  march,  like  men  unarm’d, 

Shall  straight  retreat  to  Cumberland.” 


XXXIII. 

Unconscious  of  the  near  relief, 

The  proffer  pleased  each  Scottish  chief, 
Though  much  the  Ladye  sage  gainsay’d  ; 
For  though  their  hearts  were  brave  and  true, 
From  Jedwood’s  recent  sack  they  knew, 

How  tardy  was  the  Regent’s  aid  : 

And  you  may  guess  the  noble  Dame 
Durst  not  the  secret  prescience  own, 
Sprung  from  the  art  she  might  not  name, 

By  which  the  coming  help  was  known. 
Closed  was  the  compact,  and  agreed 
That  lists  should  be  inclosed  with  speed, 
Beneath  the  castle,  on  a  lawn  : 

They  fix’d  the  morrow  for  the  strife, 

VOL.  i.  10 


146 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  IV. 


On  foot,  with  Scottish  axe  and  knife, 

At  the  fourth  hour  from  peep  of  dawn  ; 
When  Deloraine,  from  sickness  freed, 

Or  else  a  champion  in  his  stead, 

Should  for  himself  and  chieftain  stand, 

Against  stout  Musgrave,  hand  to  hand. 

XXXIY. 

I  know  right  well,  that,  in  their  lay, 

Full  many  minstrels  sing  and  say, 

Such  combat  should  be  made  on  horse, 

On  foaming  steed,  in  full  career, 

With  brand  to  aid,  when  as  the  spear 
Should  shiver  in  the  course  : 

But  he,  the  jovial  Harper,1  taught 
Me,  yet  a  youth,  how  it  was  fought, 

In  guise  which  now  I  say ; 

He  knew  each  ordinance  and  clause 
Of  Black  Lord  Archibald’s  battle  laws,2 
In  the  old  Douglas’  day. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  G  2. 

2  The  title  to  the  most  ancient  collection  of  Border  regula¬ 
tions  runs  thus:  “  Be  it  remembered,  that,  on  the  18th  day 
of  December,  1468,  Earl  William  Douglas  assembled  the 
whole  lords,  freeholders,  and  eldest  Borderers,  that  best 
knowledge  had,  at  the  college  of  Linclouden;  and  there  he 
caused  these  lords  and  Borderers  bodily  to  be  sworn,  the 
Holy  Gospel  touched,  that  they,  justly  and  truly,  after  their 
cunning,  should  decrete,  decern,  deliver,  and  put  in  order  and 
writing,  the  statutes,  ordinances,  and  uses  of  marche,  that 
were  ordained  in  Black  Archibald  of  Douglas's  days,  and 
Archibald  his  son’s  days,  in  time  of  warfare ;  and  they  came 


CANTO  IV.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


147 


He  brook’d  not,  he,  that  scoffing  tongue 
Should  tax  his  minstrelsy  with  wrong, 

Or  call  his  song  untrue  : 

For  this,  when  they  the  goblet  plied, 

And  such  rude  taunt  had  chafed  his  pride, 
The  Bard  of  Reull  he  slew 
On  Teviot’s  side,  in  fight  they  stood, 

And  tuneful  hands  were  stain’d  with  blood ; 
Where  still  the  thorn’s  white  branches  wave, 
Memorial  o’er  his  rival’s  grave. 

XXXY. 

Why  should  I  tell  the  rigid  doom, 

That  dragg’d  my  master  to  his  tomb ; 

How  Ousenam’s  maidens  tore  their  hair, 
Wept  till  their  eyes  were  dead  and  dim, 

And  wrung  their  hands  for  love  of  him, 

Who  died  at  Jedwood  Air  ? 

Pie  died ! — his  scholars,  one  by  one, 


again  to  him  advisedly  with  these  statutes  and  ordinances, 
which  were  in  time  of  warfare  before.  The  said  Earl  Wil¬ 
liam,  seeing  the  statutes  in  writing  decreed  and  delivered  by 
the  said  lords  and  Borderers,  thought  them  right,  speedful,  and 
profitable  to  the  Borders;  the  which  statutes,  ordinances, 
and  points  of  warfare,  he  took,  and  the  whole  lords  and  Bor¬ 
derers  he  caused  bodily  to  be  sworn,  that  they  should  main¬ 
tain  and  supply  him  at  their  goodly  power,  to  do  the  law 
upon  those  that  should  break  the  statutes  underwritten.  Also, 
the  said  Earl  William,  and  lords,  and  eldest  Borderers,  made 
certain  points  to  be  treason  in  time  of  warfare  to  be  used, 
which  were  no  treason  before  his  time,  but  to  be  treason  in 
his  time,  and  in  all  time  coming.” 


148 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  IV. 


To  the  cold  silent  grave  are  gone  ; 
And  I,  alas  !  survive  alone, 

To  muse  o’er  rivalries  of  yore, 

And  grieve  that  I  shall  hear  no  more 
The  strains,  with  envy  heard  before ; 
For,  with  my  minstrel  brethren  fled, 
My  jealousy  of  song  is  dead. 


He  paused  :  the  listening  dames  again 
Applaud  the  hoary  Minstrel’s  strain. 

With  many  a  word  of  kindly  cheer, — 

In  pity  half,  and  half  sincere, — 

Marvell’d  the  Duchess  how  so  well 
His  legendary  song  could  tell — 

Of  ancient  deeds,  so  long  forgot ; 

Of  feuds,  whose  memory  was  not ; 

Of  forests,  now  laid  waste  and  bare ; 

Of  towers,  which  harbour  now  the  hare  ; 

Of  manners,  long  since  changed  and  gone  ; 

Of  chiefs,  who  under  their  gray  stone 
So  long  had  slept,  that  fickle  F ame 
Had  blotted  from  her  rolls  their  name, 

And  twined  round  some  new  minion’s  head 
The  fading  wreath  for  which  they  bled ; 

In  sooth,  ’twas  strange,  this  old  man’s  verse 
Could  call  them  from  their  marble  hearse. 

The  Harper  smiled,  well-pleased  ;  for  ne’er 
Was  flattery  lost  on  poet’s  ear  : 


CANTO  IV.  1  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  149 

A  simple  race  !  they  waste  their  toil 
For  the  vain  tribute  of  a  smile  ; 

E’en  when  in  age  their  flame  expires, 

Her  dulcet  breath  can  fan  its  fires  : 

Their  drooping  fancy  wakes  at  praise, 

And  strives  to  trim  the  short-lived  blaze. 

# 

Smiled  then,  well-pleased,  the  Aged  Man, 
And  thus  his  tale  continued  ran. 


THE 

LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


CANTO  FIFTH. 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

CANTO  FIFTH. 


I. 

Call  it  not  vain  : — they  do  not  err, 

Who  say,  that  when  the  Poet  dies, 

Mute  Nature  mourns  her  worshipper, 

And  celebrates  his  obsequies  : 

Who  say,  tall  cliff,  and  cavern  lone, 

For  the  departed  Bard  make  moan  ; 

T1  mt  mountains  weep  in  crystal  rill ; 

That  flowers  in  tears  of  balm  distil ; 
Through  his  loved  groves  that  breezes  sigh, 
And  oaks,  in  deeper  groan,  reply ; 

And  rivers  teach  their  rushing  wave 
To  murmur  dirges  round  his  grave. 


ii. 

Not  that,  in  sooth,  o’er  mortal  urn 
Those  things  inanimate  can  mourn  ; 


154 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  V. 


But  that  the  stream,  the  wood,  the  gale, 

Is  vocal  with  the  plaintive  wail 
Of  those,  who,  else  forgotten  long, 

Lived  in  the  poet’s  faithful  song, 

And,  with  the  poet’s  parting  breath, 

Whose  memory  feels  a  second  death. 

The  Maid’s  pale  shade,  who  wails  her  lot, 
That  love,  true  love,  should  be  forgot, 

From  rose  and  hawthorn  shakes  the  tear 
Upon  the  gentle  Minstrel’s  bier : 

The  phantom  Knight,  his  glory  fled, 

Mourns  o’er  the  field  lie  heap’d  with  dead  ; 
Mounts  the  wild  blast  that  sweeps  amain, 

And  shrieks  along  the  battle-plain  : 

The  Chief,  whose  antique  crownlet  long 
Still  sparkled  in  the  feudal  song, 

Now,  from  the  mountain’s  misty  throne, 

Sees,  in  the  thanedom  once  his  own, 

His  ashes  undistinguish’d  lie, 

His  place,  his  power,  his  memory  die  : 

His  groans  the  lonely  caverns  fill, 

His  tears  of  rage  impel  the  rill : 

All  mourn  the  Minstrel’s  harp  unstrung, 

Their  name  unknown,  their  praise  unsung. 

hi. 

Scarcely  the  hot  assault  was  stayed, 

The  terms  of  truce  were  scarcely  made, 

When  they  could  spy,  from  Branksome’s  towers. 
The  advancing  march  of  martial  powers. 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


155 


Thick  clouds  of  dust  afar  appear’d, 

And  trampling  steeds  were  faintly  heard; 
Bright  spears,1  above  the  columns  dun, 
Glanced  momentary  to  the  sun  ; 

And  feudal  banners  fair  display’d 

The  bands  that  moved  to  Branksome’s  aid. 


IV. 

Vails  not  to  tell  each  hardy  clan, 

From  the  fair  Middle  Marches  came  ; 

The  Bloody  Heart  blazed  in  the  van, 
Announcing  Douglas,  dreaded  name  !  2 
Vails  not  to  tell  what  steeds  did  spurn,3 
Where  the  Seven  Spears  of  Wedderburne  4 

1  [  Orig.  “  Spear-heads  above  the  columns  dun.” — Ed.] 

2  The  chief  of  this  potent  race  of  heroes,  about  the  date  of 
the  poem,  was  Archibald  Douglas,  seventh  Earl  of  Angus,  a 
man  of  great  courage  and  activity.  The  Bloody  Heart  was 
the  well-known  cognizance  of  the  house  of  Douglas,  assumed 
from  the  time  of  good  Lord  James,  to  whose  care  Robert 
Bruce  committed  his  heart,  to  be  carried  to  the  Holy  Land. 

3  [In  the  first  edition  we  read — 

“  Vails  not  to  tell  what  hundreds  more 
From  the  rich  Merse  and  Lammermore,”  &c. 

The  lines  on  Wedderburne  and  Swinton  were  inserted  in 
the  second  edition. — Ed.] 

4  Sir  David  Home  of  Wedderburne,  who  was  slain  in  the 
fatal  battle  of  Flodden,  left  seven  sons  by  his  wife,  Isabel, 
daughter  of  Hoppringle  of  Galashiels,  (now  Pringle,  of  White- 
bank.)  They  were  called  the  Seven  Spears  of  Wedder¬ 
burne. 


156 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  y. 


Their  men  in  battle-order  set; 

And  Swinton  laid  the  lance  in  rest, 

That  tamed  of  yore  the  sparkling  crest 
Of  Clarence’s  Plantagenet.1 
Nor  list  I  say  what  hundreds  more, 

From  the  rich  Merse  and  Lammermore, 

And  Tweed’s  fair  borders,  to  the  war, 

Beneath  the  crest  of  old  Dunbar, 

And  Hepburn’s  mingled  banners  come, 
Down  the  steep  mountain  glittering  far, 

And  shouting  still,  “  A  Home  !  a  Home  ”  ! 2 


1  At  the  battle  of  Beaug£,  in  France,  Thomas,  Duke  of 
Clarence,  brother  to  Henry  V.,  was  unhorsed  by  Sir  John 
Swinton  of  Swinton,  who  distinguished  him  by  a  coronet  set 
with  precious  stones,  which  he  wore  around  his  helmet.  The 
family  of  Swinton  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  in  Scotland,  and 
produced  many  celebrated  warriors.3 

2  The  Earls  of  Home,  as  descendants  of  the  Dunbars,  an¬ 
cient  Earls  of  March,  carried  a  lion  rampant,  argent ;  but,  as 
a  difference,  changed  the  colour  of  the  shield  from  gules  to 
vert,  in  allusion  to  Greenlaw,  their  ancient  possession.  The 
slogan,  or  war-cry,  of  this  powerful  family,  was,  “  A  Home ! 
a  Home!  ”  It  was  anciently  placed  in  an  escrol  above  the 
crest.  The  helmet  is  armed  with  a  lion’s  head  erased  gules, 
with  a  cap  of  state  gules,  turned  up  ermine. 

The  Hepburns,  a  powerful  family  in  East  Lothian,  were 
usually  in  close  alliance  with  the  Homes.  The  chief  of  this 
clan  was  Hepburn,  Lord  of  Hades;  a  family  which  termi¬ 
nated  in  the  too  famous  Earl  of  Bothwell. 

3  [See  the  Battle  of  Hallidon  Hill.  Sir  W.  Scott  was  de¬ 
scended  from  Sir  John  Swinton. — Ed.] 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


157 


Y. 

Now  squire  and  knight,  from  Branksome  sent, 
On  many  a  courteous  message  went ; 

To  every  chief  and  lord  they  paid 
Meet  thanks  for  prompt  and  powerful  aid ; 

And  told  them, — how  a  truce  was  made, 

And  how  a  day  of  fight  was  ta’en 
’Twixt  Musgrave  and  stout  Deloraine  ; 

And  how  the  Ladye  pray’d  them  dear, 
That  all  would  stay  the  fight  to  see, 

And  deign,  in  love  and  courtesy, 

To  taste  of  Branksome  cheer. 

Nor,  while  they  bade  to  feast  each  Scot, 

Were  England’s  noble  Lords  forgot. 

Himself,  the  hoary  Seneschal 
Rode  forth,  in  seemly  terms  to  ‘call 
Those  gallant  foes  to  Branksome  Hall. 
Accepted  Howard,  than  whom  knight 
Was  never  dubb’d,  more  bold  in  fight; 

Nor,  when  from  war  and  armour  free, 

More  famed  for  stately  courtesy  : 

But  angry  Dacre  rather  chose 
In  his  pavilion  to  repose. 


VI. 

Now,  noble  Dame,  perchance  you  ask, 
How  these  two  hostile  armies  met  ? 
Deeming  it  were  no  easy  task 

To  keep  the  truce  which  here  was  set ; 


158 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CAM TO  V. 


Where  martial  spirits,  all  on  fire, 

Breathed  only  blood  and  mortal  ire. — 

By  mutual  inroads,  mutual  blows, 

By  habit,  and  by  nation,  foes, 

They  met  on  Teviot’s  strand  ; 

They  met  and  sate  them  mingled  down, 
Without  a  threat,  without  a  frown, 

As  brothers  meet  in  foreign  land : 

The  hands,  the  spear  that  lately  grasp’d, 

Still  in  the  mailed  gauntlet  clasp’d, 

Were  interchanged  in  greeting  dear; 

Visors  were  raised,  and  faces  shown, 

And  many  a  friend,  to  friend  made  known, 
Partook  of  social  cheer. 

Some  drove  the  jolly  bowl  about  ; 

With  dice  and  draughts  some  chased  the  day  ; 
And  some,  with  many  a  merry  shout, 

In  riot,  revelry,  and  rout, 

Pursued  the  football  play.1 

1  The  football  was  anciently  a  very  favourite  sport  all 
through  Scotland,  but  especially  upon  the  Borders.  Sir  John 
Carmichael  of  Carmichael,  Warden  of  the  Middle  Marches, 
was  killed  in  1600  by  a  band  of  the  Armstrongs,  returning 
from  a  football  match.  Sir  Robert  Carey,  in  his  Memoirs, 
mentions  a  great  meeting,  appointed  by  the  Scotch  riders  to 
be  held  at  Kelso  for  the  purpose  of  playing  at  football,  but 
which  terminated  in  an  incursion  upon  England.  At  pres¬ 
ent,  the  football  is  often  played  by  the  inhabitants  of  adja¬ 
cent  parishes,  or  of  the  opposite  banks  of  a  stream.  The 
victory  is  contested  with  the  utmost  fury,  and  very  serious 
accidents  have  sometimes  taken  place  in  the  struggle. 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


159 


YII. 

Yet,  be  it  known,  had  bugles  blown, 

Or  sign  of  war  been  seen, 

Those  bands,  so  fair  together  ranged, 

Those  hands,  so  frankly  interchanged, 

Had  dyed  with  gore  the  green  : 

The  merry  shout  by  Teviot-side 
Had  sunk  in  war-cries  wild  and  wide, 

And  in  the  groan  of  death ; 

And  whingers,1  now  in  friendship  bare, 

The  social  meal  to  part  and  share, 

Had  found  a  bloody  sheath. 

’Twixt  truce  and  war,  such  sudden  change 
Was  not  infrequent,  nor  held  strange, 

In  the  old  Border-day  : 2 
But  yet  on  Branksome’s  towers  and  town, 

In  peaceful  merriment,  sunk  down 
The  sun’s  declining  ray. 

1  A  sort  of  knife,  or  poniard. 

2  Notwithstanding  the  consrant  wars  upon  the  Borders,  and 
the  occasional  cruelties  which  marked  the  mutual  inroads, 
the  inhabitants  on  either  side  do  not  appear  to  have  regarded 
each  other  with  that  violent  and  personal  animosity,  which 
might  have  been  expected.  On  the  contrary,  like  the  out¬ 
posts  of  hostile  armies,  they  often  carried  on  something  re¬ 
sembling  friendly  intercourse,  even  in  the  middle  of  hostili¬ 
ties  ;  and  it  is  evident,  from  various  ordinances  against  trade 
and  intermarriages,  between  English  and  Scottish  Borderers, 
that  the  governments  of  both  countries  were  jealous  of  their 
cherishing  too  intimate  a  connection.  Froissart  says  of  both 
nations,  that  “  Englyshmen  on  the  one  party,  and  Scottes  on 
the  other  party,  are  good  men  of  warre ;  for  when  they  meet, 
there  is  a  harde  fight  without  sparynge.  There  is  no  hoo 


160 


THE  LAY  OF 


r CANTO  V. 


VIII. 

The  blithesome  signs  of  wassel  gay 
Decay’d  not  with  the  dying  day  ; 

Soon  through  the  latticed  windows  tall 
Of  lofty  Branksome’s  lordly  hall, 
Divided  square  by  shafts  of  stone, 

Huge  flakes  of  ruddy  lustre  shone ; 

Nor  less  the  gilded  rafters  rang 
With  merry  harp  and  beakers’  clang : 
And  frequent,  on  the  darkening  plain, 
Loud  hollo,  whoop,  or  whistle  ran, 


[i truce ]  between  them,  as  long  as  spears,  swords,  axes,  or 
daggers,  will  endure,  but  lay  on  eche  upon  uther;  and  whan 
they  be  well  beaten,  and  that  the  one  party  hath  obtained  the 
victory,  they  then  gloryfye  so  in  theyre  dedes  of  armies,  and 
are  so  joyfull,  that  such  as  be  taken  they  shall  be  ransomed, 
or  that  they  go  out  of  the  felde ;  so  that  shortly  eche  of  them 
is  so  content  with  other,  that,  at  their  departynge,  curtyslye 
they  will  say,  God  thank  you.” — Berners’s  Froissart ,  vol. 
ii.  p.  153.  The  Border  meetings  of  truce  which,  although 
places  of  merchandise  and  merriment,  often  witnessed  the 
most  bloody  scenes,  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  description  in 
the  text.  They  are  vividly  portrayed  in  the  old  ballad  of 
the  Reidsquair.  [See  Minstrelsy ,  vol.  ii.  p.  15. J  Both  par¬ 
ties  came  armed  to  a  meeting  of  the  wardens,  yet  they  in¬ 
termixed  fearlessly  and  peaceably  with  each  other  in  mu¬ 
tual  sports  and  familiar  intercourse,  until  a  casual  fray 
arose : — 


“  Then  was  there  nought  but  bow  and  spear, 

And  every  man  pulled  out  a  brand.” 

In  the  29th  stanza  of  this  canto,  there  is  an  attempt  to  ex¬ 
press  some  of  the  mixed  feelings,  with  which  the  Borderers 
on  each  side  were  led  to  regard  their  neighbours. 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


161 


As  bands,  their  stragglers  to  regain. 

Give  the  shrill  watchword  of  their  clan  ; 1 
And  revellers,  o’er  their  bowls,  proclaim 
Douglas  or  Dacre’s  conquering  name. 


IX. 

Less  frequent  heard,  and  fainter  still, 

At  length  the  various  clamours  died  : 

1  Patten  remarks,  with  bitter  censure,  the  disorderly  conduct 
of  the  English  Borderers,  who  attended  the  Protector  Somer¬ 
set  on  his  expedition  against  Scotland.  “  As  we  wear  then  a 
setling,  and  the  tents  a  setting  up,  among  all  things  els  com¬ 
mendable  in  our  hole  journey,  one  thing  seemed  to  me  an 
intollerable  disorder  and  abuse:  that  whereas  always,  both  in 
all  tounes  of  war,  and  in  all  campes  of  armies,  quietness  and 
stilnes,  without  nois,  is,  principally  in  the  night,  after  the 
watch  is  set,  observed,  (I  nede  not  reason  why,)  ournoi'thern 
prikers,  the  Borderers,  notwithstandyng,  with  great  enormitie. 
(as  thought  me,)  and  notunlike  (to  be  playn)  unto  a  master¬ 
ies  hounde  howlying  in  a  hie  way  when  he  hath  lost  him  he 
waited  upon,  sum  hoopynge,  sum  whistlyng,  and  most  with 
crying,  A  Berwyke,  a  Berwyke !  A  Fenwyke,  a  Fenwyke ! 
A  Bulmer,  a  Bulmer!  or  so  ootherwise  as  tlieyr  captains 
names  wear,  never  lin’de  these  troublous  and  dangerous  noyses 
all  the  nyghte  longe.  They  said,  they  did  it  to  find  their  cap¬ 
tain  and  fellows;  but  if  the  souldiers  of  our  oother  countreys 
and  sheres  had  used  the  same  mailer,  in  that  case  we  should 
have  oft  tymes  had  the  state  of  our  campe  more  like  the  out¬ 
rage  of  a  dissolute  huntyng,  than  the  quiet  of  a  well  ordered 
armye.  It  is  a  feat  of  war,  in  mine  opinion,  that  might  right 
well  be  left.  I  could  rehersc  causes  (but  yf  I  take  it,  they 
are  better  unspoken  than  uttred,  unless  the  faut  wear  sure 
to  be  amended)  that  might  shew  thei  move  alweis  more  peral 
to  our  armie,  but  in  their  one  nyglit’s  so  doynge,  than  they 
shew  good  service  (as  some  sey)  in  a  hoole  vyage.” — Apud 
Dalzell’s  Fragments ,  p.  75. 

YOL  I. 


11. 


162 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO 


And  you  might  hear,  from  Branksome  hill, 
No  sound  but  Teviot’s  rushing  tide ; 

Save  when  the  changing  sentinel 
The  challenge  of  his  watch  could  tell ; 

And  save,  where,  through  the  dark  profound. 
The  clanging  axe  and  hammer’s  sound 
Rung  from  the  nether  lawn  ; 

For  many  a  busy  hand  toil’d  there, 

Strong  pales  to  shape,  and  beams  to  square,1 
The  list’s  dread  barriers  to  prepare 
Against  the  morrow’s  dawn. 


x. 

Margaret  from  hall  did  soon  retreat, 
Despite  the  Dame’s  reproving  eye  ; 
Nor  mark’d  she,  as  she  left  her  seat, 
Full  many  a  stifled  sigh; 

For  many  a  noble  warrior  strove 
To  win  the  flower  of  Teviot’s  love, 

And  many  a  bold  ally. — 

With  throbbing  head  and  anxious  heart, 
All  in  her  lonely  bower  apart, 

In  broken  sleep  she  lay  : 

By  times,  from  silken  couch  she  rose  ; 
While  yet  the  banner’d  hosts  repose, 
She  view’d  the  dawning  day  : 

Of  all  the  hundreds  sunk  to  rest, 

First  woke  the  loveliest  and  the  best. 


1  [This  line  is  not  in  the  first  Edition.] 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


163 


XI. 

She  gazed  upon  the  inner  court, 

Which  in  the  tower’s  tall  shadow  lay  ; 
Where  coursers’  clang,  and  stamp,  and  snort, 
Had  rung  the  livelong  yesterday ; 

Now  still  as  death  ;  till  stalking  slow, — 

The  jingling  spurs  announced  his  tread, — 
A  stately  warrior  pass’d  below ; 

But  when  he  raised  his  plumed  head — 
Blessed  Mary !  can  it  be  ? 

Secure,  as  if  in  Ousenam  bowers, 

He  walks  through  Branksome’s  hostile  towers, 
With  fearless  step  and  free. 

She  dared  not  sign,  she  dared  not  speak — 

Oh  !  if  one  page’s  slumbers  break, 

His  blood  the  price  must  pay  ! 

Not  all  the  pearls  Queen  Mary  wears, 

Not  Margaret’s  yet  more  precious  tears, 

Shall  buy  his  life  a  day. 

XII. 

Yet  was  his  hazard  small ;  for  well 
You  may  bethink  you  of  the  spell 
Of  that  sly  urchin  page  ; 

This  to  his  lord  he  did  impart, 

And  made  him  seem,  by  glamour  art, 

A  knight  from  Hermitage. 

Unchallenged  thus,  the  warder’s  post, 

The  court,  unchallenged,  thus  he  cross’d, 

For  all  the  vassalage  : 


164 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO 


But  O  !  what  magic’s  quaint  disguise 
Could  blind  fair  Margaret’s  azure  eyes ! 

She  started  from  her  seat ; 

While  with  surprise  and  fear  she  strove, 
And  both  could  scarcely  master  love — 
Lord  Henry ’s  at  her  feet. 

XIII. 

Oft  have  I  mused,  what  purpose  bad 
That  foul  malicious  urchin  had 
To  bring  this  meeting  round  ; 

For  happy  love’s  a  heavenly  sight, 

And  by  a  vile  malignant  sprite 
In  such  no  joy  is  found  ; 

And  oft  I’ve  deem’d,  perchance  he  thought 
Their  erring  passion  might  have  wrought 
Sorrow,  and  sin,  and  shame ; 

And  death  to  Cranstoun’s  gallant  Knight, 
And  to  the  gentle  ladye  bright, 

Disgrace,  and  loss  of  fame. 

But  earthly  spirit  could  not  tell 
The  heart  of  them  that  loved  so  well. 

True  love’s  the  gift  which  God  has  given 
To  man  alone  beneath  the  heaven  : 

It  is  not  fantasy’s  hot  fire, 

Whose  wishes,  soon  as  granted,  fly ; 

It  liveth  not  in  fierce  desire, 

With  dead  desire  it  doth  not  die  ; 

It  is  the  secret  sympathy, 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


165 


The  silver  link,1  the  silken  tie, 

Which  heart  to  heart,  and.  mind  to  mind, 

In  body  and  in  soul  can  bind. — 

Now  leave  we  Margaret  and  her  Knight, 

To  tell  you  of  the  approaching  fight. 

XIV. 

Their  warning  blasts  the  bugles  blew, 

The  pipe’s  shrill  port 2  aroused  each  clan ; 
In  haste,  the  deadly  strife  to  view, 

The  trooping  warriors  eager  ran  : 

Thick  round  the  lists  their  lances  stood, 
Like  blasted  pines  in  Ettrick  wood  ; 

To  Branksome  many  a  look  they  threw, 

The  combatants’  approach  to  view, 

And  bandied  many  a  word  of  boast, 

About  the  knight  each  favour’d  most. 


xv. 

Meantime  full  anxious  was  the  Dame ; 
For  now  arose  disputed  claim, 

Of  who  should  fight  for  Deloraine, 


1  [In  the  first  edition,  “  the  silver  cord;  ” — 

“  Yes,  love,  indeed,  is  light  from  heaven; 

A  spark  of  that  immortal  fire 
With  angels  shared,  by  Alla  given 
To  lift  from  earth  our  low  desire,”  &c. 

The  Giaour .] 

2  A  martial  piece  of  music,  adapted  to  the  bagpipes. 


166 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  V. 


’Twixt  Harden  and  ’twixt  Thirlestane  : 1 

They  ’gan  to  reckon  kin  and  rent, 

And  frowning  brow  on  brow  was  bent ; 

But  yet  not  long  the  strife — for,  lo  ! 

Himself,  the  Knight  of  Deloraine, 

Strong,  as  it  seem’d,  and  free  from  pain, 

In  armour  sheath’d  from  top  to  toe, 
Appear’d,  and  craved  the  combat  due. 

The  Dame  her  charm  successful  knew,2 
And  the  fierce  chiefs  their  claims  withdrew. 

XYI. 

When  for  the  lists  they  sought  the  plain, 

The  stately  Ladye’s  silken  rein 
Did  noble  Howard  hold  ; 

Unarmed  by  her  side  he  walk’d, 

And  much,  in  courteous  phrase,  they  talk’d 
Of  feats  of  arms  of  old. 

Costly  his  garb — his  Flemish  ruff 
Fell  o’er  his  doublet,  shaped  of  buff, 

With  satin  slash’d  and  lined ; 

Tawny  his  boot,  and  gold  his  spur, 

His  cloak  was  all  of  Poland  fur, 

His  hose  with  silver  twined  ; 

1  [It  may  be  noticed  that  the  late  Lord  Napier,  the  repre¬ 
sentative  of  the  Scotts  of  Thirlestane,  was  Lord  Lieutenant 
of  Selkirkshire  (of  which  the  author  was  Sheriff-depute)  at  the 
time  when  the  poem  was  written;  the  competitor  for  the 
honour  of  supplying  Deloraine’s  place  was  the  poet’s  own 
ancestor.— Ed.] 

2  See  Canto  3,  Stanza  xxiii. 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


167 


His  Bilboa  blade,  by  Marchmen  felt, 

Huns:  in  a  broad  and  studded  belt ; 

Hence,  in  rude  phrase,  the  Borderers  still 

Call’d  noble  Howard,  Belted  Will. 

« 

XVII. 

Behind  Lord  Howard  and  the  Dame, 
Fair  Margaret  on  her  palfrey  came, 
Whose  footcloth  swept  the  ground  : 
White  was  her  wimple,  and  her  veil, 

And  her  loose  locks  a  chaplet  pale 
Of  whitest  roses  bound ; 

The  lordly  Angus,  by  her  side, 

In  courtesy  to  cheer  her  tried  ; 

Without  his  aid,  her  hand  in  vain 
Had  strove  to  guide  her  broider’d  rein. 
He  deem’d,  she  shudder’d  at  the  sight 
Of  warriors  met  for  mortal  fight ; 

But  cause  of  terror,  all  unguess’d, 

Was  fluttering  in  her  gentle  breast, 

When,  in  their  chairs  of  crimson  placed, 
The  Dame  and  she  the  barriers  graced. 

XVIII. 

Prize  of  the  field,  the  young  Buccleuch, 
An  English  knight  led  forth  to  view  ; 
Scarce  rued  the  boy  his  present  plight, 

So  much  he  long’d  to  see  the  fight. 

Within  the  lists,  in  knightly  pride, 

High  Home  and  haughty  Dacre  ride  ; 


168 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto 


Their  leading  staffs  of  steel  they  wield, 
As  marshals  of  the  mortal  field  ; 

While  to  each  knight  their  care  assign’d 
Like  vantage  of  the  sun  and  wind,1 
Then  heralds  hoarse  did  loud  proclaim, 

In  King  and  Queen,  and  Warden’s  name, 
That  none,  while  lasts  the  strife, 

Should  dare,  by  look,  or  sign,  or  word, 
Aid  to  a  champion  to  afford, 

On  peril  of  his  life ; 

And  not  a  breath  the  silence  broke, 

Till  thus  the  alternate  Heralds  spoke  : — 

XIX. 

ENGLISH  HERALD. 

“  Here  standeth  Richard  of  Musgrave, 
Good  knight  and  true,  and  freely  born, 
Amends  from  Deloraine  to  crave, 

For  foul  despiteous  scathe  and  scorn. 
He  sayeth,  that  William  of  Deloraine 
Is  traitor  false  by  Border  laws  ; 

This  with  his  sword  he  will  maintain, 

So  help  him  God,  and  his  good  cause !  ” 


xx. 

SCOTTISH  HERALD. 

“  Here  standeth  William  of  Deloraine, 
Good  knight  and  true,  of  noble  strain, 


1  [This  couplet  was  added  in  the  2d  Edition.] 


CANTO  V.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  169 

Who  sayeth,  that  foul  treason’s  stain, 

Since  he  bore  arms,  ne’er  soil’d  his  coat ; 
And  that,  so  help  him  God  above  ! 

He  will  on  Musgrave’s  body  prove, 

He  lies  most  foully  in  his  throat.” — 

LORD  DACRE. 

“  Forward,  brave  champions,  to  the  tight ! 
Sound  trumpets  !  ” - 

LORD  HOME. 

- “  God  defend  the  right !  ” — 1 

Then,  Teviot !  how  thine  echoes  rang, 

When  bugle-sound  and  trumpet-clang 
Let  loose  the  martial  foes, 

And  in  mid  list,  with  shield  poised  high, 

And  measured  step  and  wary  eye, 

The  combatants  did  close. 


XXI. 

Ill  would  it  suit  your  gentle  ear, 

Ye  lovely  listeners,  to  hear 

How  to  the  axe  the  helms  did  sound, 

And  blood  pour’d  down  from  many  a  wound  ; 
For  desperate  was  the  strife  and  long, 

And  either  warrior  fierce  and  strong. 

But,  were  each  dame  a  listening  knight, 

I  well  could  tell  how  warriors  fight ! 

[i  After  this,  in  the  first  Edition,  we  read  only, 

“  At  the  last  words,  with  deadly  blows, 

The  ready  warriors  fiercely  close.” — Ed.] 


170 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  V. 


For  I  have  seen  war’s  lightning  flashing, 

Seen  the  claymore  with  bayonet  clashing, 

Seen  through  red  blood  the  war  horse  dashing, 
And  scorn’d,  amid  the  reeling  strife, 

To  yield  a  step  for  death  or  life. — 

XXII. 

’Tis  done,  ’tis  done  !  that  fatal  blow  1 
Has  stretched  him  on  the  bloody  plain ; 

He  strives  to  rise — Brave  Musgrave,  no  ! 
Thence  never  shalt  thou  rise  again  ! 

He  chokes  in  blood — some  friendly  hand 
Undo  the  visor’s  barred  band, 

Unfix  the  gorget’s  iron  clasp, 

And  give  him  room  for  life  to  gasp  ! — 

0,  bootless  aid  ! — haste,  holy  Friar,2 
Haste,  ere  the  sinner  shall  expire  ! 

Of  all  his  guilt  let  him  be  shriven, 

And  smooth  his  path  from  earth  to  heaven  ! 

XXIII. 

In  haste  the  holy  F riar  sped ; — 

His  naked  foot  was  dyed  with  red, 

As  through  the  lists  he  ran  ; 

f1  “  The  whole  scene  of  the  duel,  or  judicial  combat,  is 
conducted  according  to  the  strictest  ordinances  of  chivalry, 
and  delineated  with  all  the  minuteness  of  an  ancient  ro¬ 
mancer.  The  modern  reader  will  probably  find  it  rather 
tedious;  all  but  the  concluding  stanzas,  which  are  in  a  loftier 
measure — ‘  ’Tis  done!  ’tis  done,’  &c.” — Jeffrey.] 

2  [First  Edition,  “  In  vain — In  vain!  haste,  holy  Friar.”] 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


171 


Unmindful  of  the  shouts  on  high, 

That  hail’d  the  conqueror’s  victory, 

He  raised  the  dying  man  ; 

Loose  waved  his  silver  beard  and  hair, 

As  o’er  him  he  kneel’d  down  in  prayer  ; 

And  still  the  crucifix  on  high 
He  holds  before  his  darkening  eye ; 

And  still  he  bends  an  anxious  ear, 

His  faltering  penitence  to  hear  ; 

Still  props  him  from  the  bloody  sod, 

Still,  even  when  soul  and  body  part, 

Pours  ghostly  comfort  on  his  heart, 

And  bids  him  trust  in  God  ! 

Unheard  he  prays  ; — the  death-pang’s  o’er  ! 1 
Richard  of  Musgrave  breathes  no  more. 


xxiv. 

As  if  exhausted  in  the  fight, 

Or  musing  o’er  the  piteous  sight, 

The  silent  victor  stands  ; 

His  beaver  did  he  not  unclasp, 

Mark’d  not  the  shouts,  felt  not  the  grasp 
Of  erratulating  hands. 

When  lo !  strange  cries  of  wild  surprise, 
Mingled  with  seeming  terror,  rise 
Among  the  Scottish  bands  ; 

And  all,  amid  the  throng’d  array, 

In  panic  haste  gave  open  way 


1  [  Orig. — “  Unheard  he  prays; —  'tis  o'er ,  'tis  o'er  !  ”] 


172 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO 


To  a  half-naked  ghastly  man, 

Who  downward  from  the  castle  ran  : 

He  cross’d  the  harriers  at  a  bound, 

And  wild  and  haggard  look’d  around, 

As  dizzy,  and  in  pain  ; 

And  all,  upon  the  armed  ground, 

Knew  William  of  Deloraine  ! 

Each  ladye  sprung  from  seat  with  speed  ; 
Vaulted  each  marshal  from  his  steed  ; 

“  And  who  art  thou,”  they  cried, 

“  Who  hast  this  battle  fought  and  won  ?  ” — 
His  plumed  helm  was  soon  undone — 

“  Cranstoun  of  Teviot-side  ! 

For  this  fair  prize  I’ve  fought  and  won,” — 
And  to  the  Ladye  led  her  son. 

XX  Y. 

Full  oft  the  rescued  boy  she  kiss’d, 

And  often  press’d  him  to  her  breast ; 

For,  under  all  her  dauntless  show, 

Her  heart  had  tlrrobb’d  at  every  blow  ; 

Yet  not  Lord  Cranstoun  deign’d  she  greet, 
Though  low  he  kneeled  at  her  feet. 

Me  lists  not  tell  what  words  were  made, 
What  Douglas,  Home,  and  Howard,  said — 
— For  Howard  was  a  generous  foe — 
And  how  the  clan  united  pray’d 
The  Ladye  would  the  feud  forego, 

And  deign  to  bless  the  nuptial  hour 
Of  Cranstoun’s  Lord  and  Teviot’s  Flower. 


CANTO  Y.J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


173 


XXYI. 

She  look’d  to  river,  look’d  to  hill, 

Thought  on  the  Spirit’s  prophecy, 

Then  broke  her  silence  stern  and  still, — 

“  Not  you,  but  Fate,  has  vanquish’d  me  ; 
Their  influence  kindly  stars  may  shower 
On  Teviot’s  tide  and  Branksome’s  tower, 

For  pride  is  quell’d,  and  love  is  free.” — 

She  took  fair  Margaret  by  the  hand, 

Who,  breathless,  trembling,  scarce  might  stand  ; 

That  hand  to  Cranstoun’s  lord  gave  she : — 

“  As  I  am  true  to  thee  and  thine, 

Do  thou  be  true  to  me  and  mine  ! 

This  clasp  of  love  our  bond  shall  be  ; 

For  this  is  your  betrothing  day, 

And  all  these  noble  lords  shall  stay, 

To  grace  it  with  their  company.” — 

XXVII. 

All  as  they  left  the  listed  plain, 

Much  of  the  story  she  did  gain  ; 

How  Cranstoun  fought  with  Deloraine, 

And  of  his  page,  and  of  the  Book 
Which  from  the  wounded  knight  he  took ; 

And  how  he  sought  her  castle  high, 

That  morn,  by  help  of  gramarye  ; 

HoWj  in  Sir  William’s  armour  dight, 

Stolen  by  his  page,  while  slept  the  knight, 

He  took  on  him  the  single  fight. 

But  half  his  tale  he  left  unsaid, 


174 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  V. 


And  linger’d  till  he  join’d  the  maid. — 

Cared  not  the  Ladye  to  betray 
Her  mystic  arts  in  view  of  day ; 

But  well  she  thought,  ere  midnight  came, 

Of  that  strange  page  the  pride  to  tame, 

From  his  foul  hands  the  Book  to  save, 

And  send  it  back  to  Michael’s  grave. — 

Needs  not  to  tell  each  tender  word 

’Twixt  Margaret  and  ’twixt  Cranstoun’s  lord  ; 

Nor  how  she  told  of  former  woes, 

And  how  her  bosom  fell  and  rose, 

While  he  and  Musgrave  bandied  blows. — 
Needs  not  these  lovers’  joys  to  tell : 

One  day,  fair  maids,  you’ll  know  them  well. 

XXVIII. 

William  of  Deloraine,  some  chance 
Had  waken’d  from  his  deathlike  trance  ; 

And  taught  that,  in  the  listed  plain, 
Another,  in  his  arms  and  shield, 

Against  fierce  Musgrave  axe  did  wield, 
Under  the  name  of  Deloraine. 

Hence,  to  the  field,  unarm’d,  he  ran, 

And  lienee  his  presence  scared  the  clan, 

Who  held  him  for  some  fleeting  wraith,1 
And  not  a  man  of  blood  and  breath. 

Not  much  this  new  ally  he  loved, 

Yet,  when  he  saw  what  hap  had  proved, 


1  The  spectral  apparition  of  a  living  person. 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


175 


He  greeted  him  right  heartilie ; 

He  would  not  waken  old  debate, 

For  he  was  void  of  rancorous  hate, 

Though  rude,  and  scant  of  courtesy  ; 

In  raids  he  spilt  but  seldom  blood, 

Unless  when  men-at-arms  withstood, 

Or,  as  was  meet,  for  deadly  feud. 

He  ne’er  bore  grudge  for  stalwart  blow, 

Ta’en  in  fair  fight  from  gallant  foe  : 

And  so  ’twas  seen  of  him,  e’en  now, 

When  on  dead  Musgrave  he  look’d  down  ; 
Grief  darken’d  on  his  rugged  brow, 

Though  half  disguised  with  a  frown  ; 

And  thus,  while  sorrow  bent  his  head, 

His  foeman’s  epitaph  he  made. 


XXIX. 

“  Now,  Richard  Musgrave,  liest  thou  here  ! 

I  ween,  my  deadly  enemy  ; 

For,  if  I  slew  thy  brother  dear, 

Thou  slew’st  a  sister’s  son  to  me  ; 

And  when  I  lay  in  dungeon  dark, 

Of  Naworth  Castle,  long  months  three, 
Till  ransom’d  for  a  thousand  mark, 

Dark  Musgrave,  it  was  long  of  thee. 
And,  Musgrave,  could  our  fight  be  tried, 
And  thou  wert  now  alive,  as  I, 

No  mortal  man  should  us  divide, 

Till  one,  or  both  of  us,  did  die  : 

Yet  rest  thee  God !  for  well  I  know 


176 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  V. 


I  ne’er  shall  find  a  nobler  foe. 

In  all  the  northern  counties  here, 

Whose  word  is  Snaffle,  spur,  and  spear,1 
Thou  wert  the  best  to  follow  gear ! 

’Twas  pleasure,  as  we  look’d  behind, 

To  see  how  thou  the  chase  could’st  wind, 

Cheer  the  dark  bloodhound  on  his  way, 

And  with  the  bugle  rouse  the  fray  ! 2 

1  “  The  lands,  that  over  Ouse  to  Berwick  foi'th  do  bear, 
Have  for  their  blazon  had,  the  snaffle,  spur,  and  spear.” 

Poly-Albion ,  Song  13. 

2  The  pursuit  of  Border  mai'auders  was  followed  by  the 
injured  party  and  his  friends  with  bloodhounds  and  bugle- 
horn,  and  was  called  the  hot-trod.  He  wras  entitled,  if  his  dog 
could  trace  the  scent,  to  follow  the  invaders  intb  the  opposite 
kingdom;  a  privilege  which  often  occasioned  bloodshed.  In 
addition  to  what  has  been  said  of  the  bloodhound,  I  may 
add,  that  the  breed  was  kept  up  by  the  Buccleuch  family  on 
their  Border  estates  till  within  the  18th  century.  A  person 
was  alive  in  the  memory  of  man,  who  remembered  a  blood¬ 
hound  being  kept  at  Eldinhope,  in  Ettrick  Forest,  for  whose 
maintenance  the  tenant  had  an  allowance  of  meal.  At  that 
time  the  sheep  were  always  watched  at  night.  Upon  one 
occasion,  when  the  duty  had  fallen  on  the  narrator,  then  a 
lad,  he  became  exhausted  with  fatigue,  and  fell  asleep  upon 
a  bank  near  sunrising.  Suddenly  he  was  awakened  by  the 
tread  of  horses,  and  saw  five  men,  well  mounted  and  armed, 
ride  briskly  over  the  edge  of  the  hill.  They  stopped  and 
looked  at  the  flock ;  but  the  day  was  too  far  broken  to  admit 
the  chance  of  their  carrying  any  of  them  off.  One  of  them, 
in  spite,  leaped  from  his  horse,  and  coming  to  the  shepherd, 
seized  him  by  the  belt  he  wore  round  his  waist;  and  set¬ 
ting  his  foot  upon  his  body,  pulled  it  till  it  broke,  and  car¬ 
ried  it  away  with  him.  They  rode  off  at  the  gallop ;  and  the 
shepherd  giving  the  alarm,  the  bloodhound  was  turned  loose 
and  the  people  in  the  neighbourhood  alarmed.  The  maraud- 


CANTO  V.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


177 


I’d  give  the  lands  of  Deloraine, 

Dark  Musgrave  were  alive  again.” — 1 


XXX. 

So  mourn’d  he,  till  Lord  Dacre’s  band 
Were  bowning  back  to  Cumberland. 

They  raised  brave  Musgrave  from  the  field, 
And  laid  him  on  his  bloody  shield  ; 

On  levell’d  lances,  four  and  four, 

By  turns,  the  noble  burden  bore. 

Before,  at  times,  upon  the  gale, 

Was  heard  the  Minstrel’s  plaintive  wail ; 
Behind,  four  priests,  in  sable  stole, 

Sung  requiem  for  the  warrior’s  soul  : 

Around,  the  horsemen  slowly  rode  ; 

With  trailing  pikes  the  spearmen  trode  ; 

And  thus  the  gallant  knight  they  bore, 
Through  Liddesdale  to  Leven’s  shore  ; 

Thence  to  Holme  Coltrame’s  lofty  nave, 

And  laid  him  in  his  father’s  grave. 

ers,  however,  escaped,  notwithstanding  a  sharp  pursuit. 
This  circumstance  serves  to  show  how  very  long  the  li¬ 
cense  of  the  Borderers  continued  in  some  degree  to  mani¬ 
fest  itself. 

1  [“  The  style  of  the  old  romancers  has  been  very  success¬ 
fully  imitated  in  the  whole  of  this  scene;  and  the  speech  of 
Deloraine,  who,  roused  from  his  bed  of  sickness,  rushes  into 
the  lists,  and  apostrophizes  his  fallen  enemy,  brought  to  our 
recollection,  as  well  from  the  peculiar  turn  of  expression 
in  its  commencement  as  in  the  tone  of  sentiments  which  it 
conveys,  some  of  th efunebres  orationes  of  the  Mort  Arthur .” 
—  Critical  Review .] 

YOL.  I. 


12 


178 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  v. 


The  harp’s  wild  notes,  though  hush’d  the  song, 
The  mimic  march  of  death  prolong  ; 

Now  seems  it  far,  and  now  a-near, 

Now  meets,  and  now  eludes  the  ear  ; 

Now  seems  some  mountain  side  to  sweep, 

Now  faintly  dies  in  valley  deep  ; 

Seems  now  as  if  the  Minstrel’s  wail, 

Now  the  sad  requiem,  loads  the  gale ; 

Last,  o’er  the  warrior’s  closing  grave, 

Rung  the  full  choir  in  choral  stave. 

After  due  pause,  they  bade  him  tell, 

Why  he,  who  touch’d  the  harp  so  well, 

Should  thus,  with  ill-rewarded  toil, 

Wander  a  poor  and  thankless  soil, 

When  the  more  generous  Southern  Land 
Would  well  requite  his  skilful  hand. 

The  Aged  Harper,  howsoe’er 
Ilis  only  friend,  his  harp,  was  dear, 

Liked  not  to  hear  it  rank’d  so  high 
Above  his  flowing  poesy  : 

Less  liked  he  still,  that  scornful  jeer 
Misprised  the  land  he  loved  so  dear ; 

High  was  the  sound,  as  thus  again 
The  Bard  resumed  his  minstrel  strain. 


THE 

LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  SIXTH. 


THE 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 

CANTO  SIXTH. 


I. 

Breathes  there  the  man,  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 

This  is  my  own,  my  native  land ! 

YV  hose  heart  hath  ne’er  within  him  burn’d, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turn’d, 

From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand  ! 

It  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him  well ; 

I  or  him  no  Minstrel  raptures  swell ; 

High  though  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  as  wish  can  claim  ; 
Despite  those  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 

The  wretch,  concentred  all  in  self, 

Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown, 

And,  doubly  dying,  shall  go  down 
lo  the  vile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung, 
Unwept,  unhonour’d,  and  unsung. 


182 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


II. 

0  Caledonia !  stern  and  wild, 

Meet  nurse  for  a  poetic  child  ! 

Land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy  wood, 

Land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood, 

Land  of  my  sires  !  what  mortal  hand 
Can  e’er  untie  the  filial  band, 

That  knits  me  to  thy  rugged  strand  ! 

Still,  as  I  view  each  well-known  scene, 

Think  what  is  now,  and  what  hath  been, 
Seems  as,  to  me,  of  all  bereft, 

Sole  friends  thy  woods  and  streams  were  left ; 
And  thus  I  love  them  better  still, 

Even  in  extremity  of  ill. 

By  Yarrow’s  streams  still  let  me  stray, 
Though  none  should  guide  my  feeble  way  ; 
Still  feel  the  breeze  down  Ettrick  break, 
Although  it  chill  my  wither’d  cheek  ; 

Still  lay  my  head  by  Teviot  Stone,1 
Though  there,  forgotten  and  alone, 

The  Bard  may  draw  his  parting  groan. 

hi. 

Not  scorn’d  like  me !  to  Branksome  Hall 
The  Minstrels  came,  at  festive  call  ; 

Trooping  they  came,  from  near  and  far, 

The  jovial  priests  of  mirth  and  war  ; 


i  [The  line  “  Still  lay  my  head &c.,  was  not  in  the  first  edi¬ 
tion. — Ed.] 


CANTO  VI.J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


183 


Alike  for  feast  and  fight  prepared, 

Battle  and  banquet  both  they  shared. 

Of  late,  before  each  martial  clan, 

They  blew  their  death-note  in  the  van, 

But  now,  for  every  merry  mate, 

Rose  the  portcullis’  iron  grate ; 

They  sound  the  pipe,  they  strike  the  string, 
They  dance,  they  revel,  and  they  sing, 

Till  the  rude  turrets  shake  and  ring;. 

O 


IV. 

Me  lists  not  at  this  tide  declare 
The  splendour  of  the  spousal  rite, 

How  muster’d  in  the  chapel  fair 

Both  maid  and  matron,  squire  and  knight ; 
Me  lists  not  tell  of  owches  rare, 

Of  mantles  green,  and  braided  hair, 

And  kirtles  furr’d  with  miniver  ; 

What  plumage  waved  the  altar  round, 

How  spurs  and  ringing  chainlets  sound  : 

And  hard  it  were  for  bard  to  speak 
The  changeful  hue  of  Margaret’s  cheek  ; 

I  hat  lovely  hue  which  comes  and  flies, 

As  awe  and  shame  alternate  rise  ! 


v. 

Some  bards  have  sung,  the  Ladye  high 
Chapel  or  altar  came  not  nigh  ; 

Nor  durst  the  rites  of  spousal  grace, 

So  much  she  fear’d  each  holy  place. 


184 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


False  slanders  these : — I  trust  right  well 
She  wrought  not  by  forbidden  spell ; 1 
For  mighty  words  and  signs  have  power 
O’er  sprites  in  planetary  hour  : 

Yet  scarce  I  praise  their  venturous  part, 
Who  tamper  with  such  dangerous  art. 
But  this  for  faithful  truth  I  say, 

The  Ladye  by  the  altar  stood, 

Of  sable  velvet  her  array, 

And  on  her  head  a  crimson  hood, 
With  pearls  embroider’d  and  entwined, 
Guarded  with  gold,  with  ermine  lined ; 
A  merlin  sat  upon  her  wrist,2 
Held  by  a  leash  of  silken  twist. 


vi. 

The  spousal  rites  were  ended  soon  : 
’Twas  now  the  merry  hour  of  noon, 
And  in  the  lofty  arched  hall 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  H  2. 

2  A  merlin,  or  sparrow-hawk,  was  actually  earned  by  ladies 
of  rank,  as  a  falcon  was,  in  time  of  peace,  the  constant  attend¬ 
ant  of  a  knight  or  baron.  See  Latham  on  Falconry.— G ods- 
croft  relates,  that  when  Mary  of  Lorraine  was  Regent,  she 
pressed  the  Earl  of  Angus  to  admit  a  royal  garrison  into  his 
Castle  of  Tantallon.  To  this  he  returned  no  direct  answer; 
but,  as  if  apostrophizing  a  goss-hawk,  which  sat  on  his  wrist, 
and  which  he  was  feeding  during  the  Queen’s  speech,  he 
exclaimed,  “  The  devil’s  in  this  greedy  glede,  she  will  never 
be  full.” — Hume’s  History  of  the  House  of  Douglas,  1743,  vol. 
ii.  p.  131.  Barclay  complains  of  the  common  and  indecent 
practice  of  bringing  hawks  and  hounds  into  churches. 


CANTO  yi.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


185 


Was  spread  the  gorgeous  festival. 

Steward  and  squire,  with  heedful  haste, 
Marshall’d  the  rank  of  every  guest ; 

Pages,  with  ready  blade,  were  there, 

The  mighty  meal  to  carve  and  share  : 

O’er  capon,  heron-shew,  and  crane, 

And  princely  peacock’s  gilded  train,1 
And  o’er  the  boar-head,  garnish’d  brave,2 
And  cygnet  from  St.  Mary’s  wave  ;3 
O’er  ptarmigan  and  venison 
The  priest  had  spoke  his  benison. 

Then  rose  the  riot  and  the  din, 

Above,  beneath,  without,  within  3 
For,  from  the  lofty  balcony, 

1  The  peacock,  it  is  well  known,  was  considered,  during  the 
tfmes  of  chivalry,  not  merely  as  an  exquisite  delicacy,  hut  as 
a  dish  of  peculiar  solemnity.  After  being  roasted,  it  was 
again  decorated  with  its  plumage,  and  a  sponge,  dipped  in 
lighted  spirits  of  wine,  was  placed  in  its  bill.  When  it  was 
introduced  on  days  of  grand  festival,  it  was  the  signal  for  the 
adventurous  knights  to  take  upon  them  vows  to  do  some  deed 
of  chivalry,  “before  the  peacock  and  the  ladies.” 

2  The  boar’s  head  was  also  a  usual  dish  of  feudal  splendour. 
In  Scotland,  it  was  sometimes  surrounded  with  little  banners, 
displaying  the  colours  and  achievements  of  the  baron  at 
whose  board  it  was  served. — Pinkerton’s  History,  vol.  i. 
p.  432. 

3  There  are  often  flights  of  wild  swans  upon  St.  Mary’s 
Lake,  at  the  head  of  the  River  Yarrow.4 

4  [See  Wordsworth’s  Yarrow  Visited, — 

“  The  Swan  on  still  St.  Mary’s  Lake 
Floats  double,  Swan  and  shadow.” — Ed.] 


186 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


Rung  trumpet,  shalm,  and  psaltery  : 

Their  clanging  bowls  old  warriors  quaff’d, 
Loudly  they  spoke,  and  loudly  laugh’d  ; 
Whisper’d  young  knights,  in  tone  more  mild, 
To  ladies  fair,  and  ladies  smiled. 

The  hooded  hawks,  high  perch’d  on  beam, 
The  clamour  join’d  with  whistling  scream, 
And  flapp’d  their  wings,  and  shook  their  bells, 
In  concert  with  the  stag-hounds’  yells. 

Round  go  the  flasks  of  ruddy  wine, 

From  Bourdeaux,  Orleans,  or  the  Rhine  ; 
Their  tasks  the  busy  sewers  ply, 

And  all  is  mirth  and  revelry. 

VII. 

The  Goblin  Page,  omitting  still 
No  opportunity  of  ill, 

Strove  now,  while  blood  ran  hot  and  high, 

To  rouse  debate  and  jealousy  ; 

Till  Conrad,  Lord  of  Wolfenstein, 

By  nature  fierce,  and  warm  with  wine, 

And  now  in  humour  highly  cross’d, 

About  some  steeds  his  band  had  lost, 

High  words  to  words  succeeding  still, 

Smote,  with  his  gauntlet,  stout  Hunthill ; 1 


1  The  Rutherfords  of  Hunthill  were  an  ancient  race  of  Bor¬ 
der  Lairds,  whose  names  occur  in  history,  sometimes  as 
defending  the  frontier  against  the  English,  sometimes  as  dis¬ 
turbing  the  peace  of  their  own  country.  Dickon  Draw-the- 
sword  was  the  son  to  the  ancient  warrior,  called  in  tradition 


CANTO  VI. J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


187 


A  hot  and  hardy  Rutherford, 

Whom  men  called  Dickon  Draw-the-sword. 
He  took  it  on  the  page’s  saye, 

Hunthill  had  driven  these  steeds  away. 
Then  Howard,  Home,  and  Douglas  rose, 
The  kindling  discord  to  compose  : 

Stern  Rutherford  right  little  said, 

But  bit  his  glove 1  and  shook  his  head. — 

A  fortnight  thence,  in  Inglewood, 

Stout  Conrad,  cold,  and  drench’d  in  blood, 


the  Cock  of  Hunthill,  remarkable  for  leading  into  battle  nine 
sons,  gallant  warriors,  all  sons  of  the  aged  champion.  Mr. 
Rutherford,  late  of  New  York,  in  a  letter  to  the  editor,  soon 
after  these  songs  were  first  published,  quoted,  when  upwards 
of  eighty  years  old,  a  ballad  apparently  the  same  with  the 
Raid  of  the  Reidsquare,  but  which  apparently  is  lost,  except 
the  following  lines : — 

“  Bauld  Rutherfurd  he  was  fu’  stout, 

With  all  his  nine  sons  him  about, 

He  brought  the  lads  of  Jedbrught  out, 

And  bauldly  fought  that  day.” 

1  To  bite  the  thumb,  or  the  glove,  seems  not  to  have  been 
considered  upon  the  Border,  as  a  gesture  of  contempt,  though 
so  used  by  Shakspeare,  but  as  a  pledge  of  mortal  revenge. 
It  is  yet  remembered,  that  a  young  gentleman  of  Teviotdale, 
on  the  morning  after  a  hard  drinking-bout,  observed  that  he 
had  bitten  his  glove.  He  instantly  demanded  of  his  com¬ 
panion,  with  whom  he  had  quarrelled;  and  learning  that  he 
had  had  words  with  one  of  the  party,  insisted  on  instant 
satisfaction,  asserting,  that  though  he  remembered  nothing  of 
the  dispute,  yet  he  was  sure  he  never  would  have  bit  his 
glove  unless  he  had  received  some  unpardonable  insult.  He 
fell  in  the  duel,  which  was  fought  near  Selkirk,  in  1721. 


188 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


His  bosom  gorecl  with  many  a  wound, 

Was  by  a  woodman’s  lyme-dog  found  ; 

Unknown  the  manner  of  his  death, 

Gone  was  his  brand,  both  sword  and  sheath ; 

But  ever  from  that  time,  ’twas  said, 

That  Dickon  wore  a  Cologne  blade. 

vm. 

The  dwarf,  who  fear’d  his  master’s  eye 
Might  his  foul  treachery  espie, 

Now  sought  the  castle  buttery, 

Where  many  a  yeoman,  bold  and  free, 

Revell’d  as  merrily  and  well 
As  those  that  sat  in  lordly  selle. 

Watt  Tinlinn,  there,  did  frankly  raise 
The  pledge  to  Arthur  Fire-the-Braes  ; 1 
And  he,  as  by  his  breeding  bound. 

To  Howard’s  merry-men  sent  it  round. 

To  quit  them,  on  the  English  side, 

Red  Roland  Forster  loudly  cried, 

“  A  deep  carouse  to  yon  fair  bride  !  ” — 

At  every  pledge,  from  vat  and  pail, 

Foam’d  forth  in  floods  the  nut-brown  ale ; 
While  shout  the  riders  every  one ; 

Such  day  of  mirth  ne’er  cheer’d  their  clan, 
Since  old  Buccleuch  the  name  did  gain, 

When  in  the  cleuch  the  buck  was  ta’en.2 

1  The  person  bearing  this  redoubtable  non  de  guerre  Avas 
an  Elliot,  and  resided  at  Thorleshope,  in  Liddesdale.  He 
occurs  in  the  list  of  Border  riders,  in  1597. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  I  2. 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


189 


IX. 

The  wily  page,  with  vengeful  thought, 
Remember’d  him  of  Tinlinn’s  yew, 

And  swore,  it  should  be  dearly  bought 
That  ever  he  the  arrow  drew. 

First,  he  the  yeoman  did  molest, 

With  bitter  gibe  and  taunting  jest ; 

Told,  how  he  fled  at  Solway  strife, 

And  how  Hob  Armstrong  cheer’d  his  wife  ; 
Then,  shunning  still  his  powerful  arm, 

At  unawares  he  wrought  him  harm  ; 

From  trencher  stole  his  choicest  cheer, 

Dash’d  from  his  lips  his  can  of  beer ; 

Then,  to  his  knee  sly  creeping  on, 

With  bodkin  pierced  him  to  the  bone  : 

The  venom’d  wound,  and  festering  joint, 

Long  after  rued  that  bodkin’s  point. 

The  startled  yeoman  swore  and  spurn’d, 

And  board  and  flagons  overturn’d. 

Riot  and  clamour  wild  began ; 

Rack  to  the  hall  the  Urchin  ran  ; 

Took  in  a  darkling  nook  his  post, 

And  grinn’d,  and  mutter’d,  “  Lost !  lost !  lost !  ”  1 

1  [“  l'he  appearance  and  dress  of  the  company  assembled 
in  the  chapel,  and  the  description  of  the  subsequent  feast,  in 
which  the  hounds  and  hawks  are  not  the  least  important  per¬ 
sonages  of  the  drama,  are  again  happy  imitations  of  those 
authors,  from  whose  rich  but  unpolished  ore  Mr.  Scott  has 
wrought  much  of  his  most  exquisite  imagery  and  description. 
A  society,  such  as  that  assembled  in  Branxholm  Castle,  in¬ 
flamed  with  national  prejudices,  and  heated  with  wine,  seems 


1(J0 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


X. 

By  tliisj  the  Dame,  lest  further  fray 
Should  mar  the  concord  of  the  day, 

Had  hid  the  Minstrels  tune  their  lay. 

And  first  stept  forth  old  Albert  Grceme, 

The  Minstrel  of  that  ancient  name  : 1 

to  have  contained  in  itself  sufficient  seeds  of  spontaneous 
disorder;  but  the  goblin  page  is  well  introduced,  as  applying 
a  torch  to  this  mass  of  combustibles.  Quarrels,  highly  char¬ 
acteristic  of  Border  manners,  both  in  their  cause  and  the 
manner  in  which  they  are  supported,  ensue,  as  well  among 
the  lordly  guests,  as  the  yeomen  assembled  in  the  buttery.” 
—  Critical  Review ,  1805.] 

1  “John  Grahame,  second  son  of  Malice,  Earl  of  Monteith, 
commonly  surnamed  John  with  the  Bright  Sword ,  upon  some 
displeasure  risen  against  him  at  court,  retired  with  many  of 
his  clan  and  kindred  into  the  English  Borders  in  the  reign  of 
King  Henry  the  Fourth,  where  they  seated  themselves;  and 
many  of  their  posterity  have  continued  there  ever  since. 
Mr.  Sandfcrd,  speaking  of  them,  says,  (which  indeed  was 
applicable  to  most  of  the  Borderers  on  both  sides,)  4  They 
were  all  stark  moss-troopers,  and  arrant  thieves:  Both  to 
England  and  Scotland  outlawed;  yet  sometimes  connived  at, 
because  they  gave  intelligence  forth  of  Scotland,  and  would 
raise  400  horse  at  any  time  upon  a  raid  of  the  English  into 
Scotland.  A  saying  is  recorded  of  a  mother  to  her  son, 
(which  has  now  become  proverbial,)  Ride,  Rowley,  hough' s  i} 
the  pot:  that  is,  the  last  piece  of  beef  was  in  the  pot,  and 
therefore  it  was  high  time  for  him  to  go  and  fetch  more.’  ” — 
Introduction  to  the  History  of  Cumberland. 

The  residence  of  the  Grsemes  being  chiefly  in  the  Debat¬ 
able  Land,  so  called  because  it  was  claimed  by  both  kingdoms, 
their  depredations  extended  both  to  England  and  Scotland, 
with  impunity;  for  as  both  wardens  accounted  them  the 
proper  subjects  of  their  own  prince,  neither  inclined  to  de¬ 
mand  reparation  for  their  excesses  from  the  opposite  officers, 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


191 


Was  none  who  struck  the  harp  so  well, 

Within  the  Land  Debatable  ; 

Well  friended,  too,  his  hardy  kin, 

Whoever  lost,  jrere  sure  to  win ; 

They  sought  the  beeves  that  made  their  broth, 
In  Scotland  and  in  England  both. 

In  homely  guise,  as  nature  bade, 

His  simple  song  the  Borderer  said. 


XI. 

ALBERT  GRyEME.1 

It  was  an  English  ladye  bright, 

(The  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall,2) 

which  would  have  been  an  acknowledgment  of  his  jurisdic¬ 
tion  over  them. — See  a  long  correspondence  on  this  subject 
betwixt  Lord  Dacre  and  the  English  Privy  Council,  in  Intro¬ 
duction  to  History  of  Cumberland.  The  Debatable  Land  was 
finally  divided  betwixt  England  and  Scotland,  by  commis¬ 
sioners  appointed  by  both  nations.2 

2  [See  various  notes  in  the  Minstrelsy .] 

1  [“  It  is  the  author’s  object,  in  these  songs,  to  exemplify 
the  different  styles  of  ballad  narrative  which  prevailed  in  this 
island  at  different  periods,  or  in  different  conditions  of  society. 
The  first  (Albert’s)  is  conducted  upon  the  rude  and  simple 
model  of  the  old  Border  ditties,  and  produces  its  effect  by 
the  direct  arid  concise  narrative  of  a  tragical  occurrence.” 
— Jeffrey.] 

2  This  burden  is  adopted,  with  some  alteration,  from  an  old 
Scottish  song,  beginning  thus: — 

“  She  lean’d  her  back  against  a  thorn, 

The  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wa’ ; 

And  there  she  has  her  young  babe  born, 

And  the  Ivon  shall  be  lord  of  a’.” 


192 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  v 


And  she  would  many  a  Scottish  knight, 

For  Love  will  still  he  lord  of  all. 

Blithely  they  saw  the  rising  sun, 

When  he  shone  fair  on  Carlisle  wall ; 

But  they  were  sad  ere  day  was  done, 

Though  Love  was  still  the  lord  of  all. 

Her  sire  gave  brooch  and  jewel  fine, 

Where  the  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall ; 
Her  brother  gave  but  a  flask  of  wine, 

i 

For  ire  that  Love  was  lord  of  all. 

For  she  had  lands,  both  meadow  and  lea, 
Where  the  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall, 
And  he  swore  her  death,  ere  he  would  see 
A  Scottish  knight  the  lord  of  all ! 

XII. 

That  wine  she  had  not  tasted  well, 

(The  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall,) 
When  dead,  in  her  true  love’s  arms,  she  fell, 
For  Love  was  still  the  lord  of  all  ! 

He  pierced  her  brother  to  the  heart, 

Where  the  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall 
So  perish  all  would  true  love  part, 

That  Love  may  still  be  lord  of  all ! 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


193 


And  then  he  took  the  cross  divine, 

(Where  the  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall,) 

And  died  for  her  sake  in  Palestine, 

So  Love  was  still  the  lord  of  all. 

Now  all  ye  lovers,  that  faithful  prove, 

(The  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall,) 

Pray  for  their  souls  who  died  for  love, 

For  Love  shall  still  be  lord  of  all ! 

XIII. 

As  ended  Albert’s  simple  lay, 

Arose  a  bard  of  loftier  port ; 

For  sonnet,  rhyme,  and  roundelay, 

Renown’d  in  haughty  Henry’s  court : 

There  rung  thy  harp,  unrivall’d  long, 

Fitztraver  of  the  silver  song  ! 

The  gentle  Surrey  loved  his  lyre — 

Who  has  not  heard  of  Surrey’s  fame  ? 1 
His  was  the  hero’s  soul  of  fire, 

1  The  gallant  and  unfortunate  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Sur¬ 
rey,  was  unquestionably  the  most  accomplished  cavalier  of 
his  time;  and  his  sonnets  display  beauties  which  would  do 
honour  to  a  more  polished  age.  He  was  beheaded  on  Tower- 
Hill  in  1546;  a  victim  to  the  mean  jealousy  of  Henry  VIII., 
who  could  not  bear  so  brilliant  a  character  near  his  throne. 

The  song  of  the  supposed  bard  is  founded  on  an  incident 
said  to  have  happened  to  the  Earl  in  his  travels.  Cornelius 
Agrippa,  the  celebrated  alchemist,  showed  him,  in  a  looking- 
glass,  the  lovely  Geraldine,  to  whose  service  he  had  devoted 
his  pen  and  his  sword.  The  vision  represented  her  as  indis¬ 
posed,  and  reclining  upon  a  couch,  reading  her  lover’s  verses 
by  the  light  of  a  waxen  taper. 

VOL.  I.  13 


194 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


And  his  the  bard’s  immortal  name, 
And  liis  was  love,  exalted  high 
By  all  the  glow  of  chivalry. 


XIY. 

They  sought,  together,  climes  afar, 

And  oft,  within  some  olive  grove, 
When  even  came  with  twinkling  star, 
They  sung  of  Surrey’s  absent  love. 

His  step  the  Italian  peasant  stay’d, 

And  deem’d,  that  spirits  from  on  high, 
Round  where  some  hermit  saint  was  laid, 
Were  breathing  heavenly  melody  ; 

So  sweet  did  harp  and  voice  combine,1 
To  praise  the  name  of  Geraldine. 


XY. 

Fitztraver  !  O  what  tongue  may  say 
The  pangs  thy  faithful  bosom  knew, 
When  Surrey,  of  the  deathless  lay, 
Ungrateful  Tudor’s  sentence  slew  ? 
Regardless  of  the  tyrant’s  frown, 

His  harp  call’d  wrath  and  vengeance  down. 
He  left,  for  Naworth’s  iron  towers, 
Windsor’s  green  glades,  and  courtly  bowers, 
And  faithful  to  his  patron’s  name, 

With  Howard  still  Fitztraver  came  ; 

Lord  William’s  foremost  favourite  he, 

And  chief  of  all  his  minstrelsy. 

1  [ First  Edit. — “  So  sweet  their  harp  and  voices  join."] 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


195 


XYI. 

FITZTRAVER.1 

’Twas  All-soul’s  eve,  and  Surrey’s  heart  beat 
high ; 

He  heard  the  midnight  bell  with  anxious  start, 
Which  told  the  mystic  hour,  approaching  nigh, 
When  wise  Cornelius  promised,  by  his  art, 
To  show  to  him  the  ladye  of  his  heart, 

Albeit  betwixt  them  roar’d  the  ocean  grim ; 
Yet  so  the  sage  had  hight  to  play  his  part, 

That  he  should  see  her  form  in  life  and  limb, 
And  mark,  if  still  she  loved,  and  still  she  thought 
of  him. 

XVII. 

Dark  was  the  vaulted  room  of  gramarye, 

To  which  the  wizard  led  the  gallant  Knight, 
Save  that  before  a  mirror,  huge  and  high, 

A  hallow’d  taper  shed  a  glimmering  light 
On  mystic  implements  of  magic  might  ; 

On  cross,  and  character,  and  talisman, 

And  almagest,  and  altar,  nothing  bright : 

For  fitful  was  the  lustre,  pale  and  wan, 

As  watchlight  by  the  bed  of  some  departing  man. 

XVIII. 

But  soon,  within  that  mirror  huge  and  high, 
Was  seen  a  self-emitted  light  to  gleam  ; 

1  [“  The  second  song,  that  of  Fitztraver,  the  bard  of  the 
accomplished  Surrey,  has  more  of  the  richness  and  polish  of 
the  Italian  poetry,  and  is  very  beautifully  written  in  a  stanza 
resembling  that  of  Spenser.” — Jeffrey.] 


196 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CA^TO  VI. 


And  forms  upon  its  breast  the  Earl  ’gan  spy, 
Cloudy  and  indistinct,  as  feverish  dream ; 
Till,  slow  arranging,  and  defined,  they  seem 
To  form  a  lordly  and  a  lofty  room, 

Part  lighted  by  a  lamp  with  silver  beam, 
Placed  by  a  couch  of  Agra’s  silken  loom, 
And  part  by  moonshine  pale,  and  part  was  hid  in 
gloom. 


XIX. 

Fair  all  the  pageant — but  how  passing  fair 
The  slender  form,  which  lay  on  couch  of  Ind  ! 
O’er  her  white  bosom  stray’d  her  hazel  hair, 
Pale  her  dear  cheek,  as  if  for  love  she  pined  ; 
All  in  her  night-robe  loose  she  lay  reclined, 
And,  pensive,  read  from  tablet  eburnine, 
Some  strain  that  seem’d  her  inmost  soul  to 
find : — 

That  favour’d  strain  was  Surrey’s  raptured 
line, 

That  fair  and  lovely  form,  the  Lady  Geraldine. 


xx. 

Slow  roll’d  the  clouds  upon  the  lovely  form, 
And  swept  the  goodly  vision  all  away — 

So  royal  envy  roll’d  the  murky  storm 
O’er  my  beloved  Master’s  glorious  day. 
Thou  jealous,  ruthless  tyrant !  Heaven  repay 
On  thee,  and  on  thy  children’s  latest  line, 
The  wild  caprice  of  thy  despotic  sway, 


CANTO  VI  ]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


197 


The  gory  bridal  bed,  the  plunder’d  shrine, 
The  murder’d  Surrey’s  blood,  the  tears  of  Geral¬ 
dine  ! 

NXI. 

Both  Scots,  and  Southern  chiefs,  prolong 
Applauses  of  Fitztraver’s  song; 

These  hated  Henry’s  name  as  death, 

And  those  still  held  the  ancient  faith. — 

Then,  from  his  seat,  with  lofty  air, 

Rose  Harold,  bard  of  brave  St.  Clair ; 

St.  Clair,  who,  feasting  high  at  Home, 

Had  with  that  lord  to  battle  come. 

Harold  was  born  where  restless  seas 
Howl  round  the  storm-swept  Orcades  ; 1 
Where  erst  St.  Clairs  held  princely  sway 
O’er  isle  and  islet,  strait  and  bay ; — 

Still  nods  their  palace  to  its  fall, 

Thy  pride  and  sorrow,  fair  Kirkwall ! — 2 
Thence  oft  he  mark’d  fierce  Pentland  rave, 

As  if  grim  Odin  rode  her  wave  ; 

And  watch’d,  the  whilst,  with  visage  pale, 

And  throbbing  heart,  the  struggling  sail ; 

For  all  of  wonderful  and  wild 
Had  rapture  for  the  lonely  child. 

XXII. 

And  much  of  wild  and  wonderful 
In  these  rude  isles  might  fancy  cull ; 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  K  2. 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  L  2. 


198 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


For  thither  came,  in  times  afar, 

Stern  Lochlin’s  sons  of  roving  war, 

The  Norsemen,  train’d  to  spoil  and  blood, 
Skill’d  to  prepare  the*  raven’s  food  ; 

Kings  of  the  main  their  leaders  brave, 

Their  barks  the  dragons  of  the  wave.1 
And  there,  in  many  a  stormy  vale, 

The  Scald  had  told  his  wondrous  tale ; 

And  many  a  Runic  column  high 
Had  witness’d  grim  idolatry. 

And  thus  had  Harold,  in  his  youth, 

Learn’d  many  a  Saga’s  rhyme  uncouth, — 

Of  that  Sea-Snake,  tremendous  curl’d, 

Whose  monstrous  circle  girds  the  world  ; 2 
Of  those  dread  Maids,3  whose  hideous  yell 
Maddens  the  battle’s  bloody  swell ; 

Of  Chiefs,  who,  guided  through  the  gloom 
By  the  pale  death-lights  of  the  tomb, 

1  The  chiefs  of  the  Vahingr ,  or  Scandinavian  pirates,  as¬ 
sumed  the  title  of  Scekonungr ,  or  Sea-kings.  Ships,  in  the  in¬ 
flated  language  of  the  Scalds,  are  often  termed  the  serpents 
of  the  ocean. 

2  The  jormungandr,  or  Snake  of  the  Ocean,  whose  folds  sur¬ 
round  the  earth,  is  one  of  the  wildest  fictions  of  the  Edda. 
It  was  very  nearly  caught  by  the  god  Thor,  who  went  to  fish 
for  it  with  a  hook  baited  with  a  bull’s  head.  In  the  battle 
betwixt  the  evil  demons  and  the  divinities  of  Odin,  which  is 
to  precede  the  Ragnaroehr,  or  Twilight  of  the  Gods,  this 
Snake  is  to  act  a  conspicuous  part. 

3  These  were  the  Valcyriur ,  or  Selectors  of  the  Slain,  dis¬ 
patched  by  Odin  from  Valhalla,  to  choose  those  who  were  to 
die,  and  to  distribute  the  contest.  They  are  well  known  to 
the  English  reader,  as  Gray’s  Fatal  Sisters. 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


199 


Ransack’d  the  graves  of  warriors  old, 

Their  falchions  wrench’d  from  corpses’  hold,1 
Waked  the  deaf  tomb  with  war’s  alarms, 

And  bade  the  dead  arise  to  arms  ! 

With  war  and  wonder  all  on  flame, 

To  Roslin’s  bowers  young  Harold  came, 
Where,  by  sweet  glen  and  greenwood  tree, 
He  learn’d  a  milder  minstrelsy  ; 

Yet  something  of  the  Northern  spell 
Mix’d  with  the  softer  numbers  well. 

XXIII. 

HAROLD.2 

O  listen,  listen,  ladies  gay  ! 

No  haughty  feat  of  arms  I  tell ; 


1  The  northern  warriors  were  usually  entombed  with  their 
arms  and  their  other  treasures.  Thus  Angantyr,  before  com¬ 
mencing  the  duel  in  which  he  was  slain,  stipulated,  that  if  he 
fell,  his  sword  Tyrfing  should  be  buried  with  him.  His  daugh¬ 
ter,  Hervor,  afterwards  tpok  it  from  his  tomb.  The  dialogue 
which  passed  betwixt  her  and  Angantyr’s  spirit  on  this  occa¬ 
sion,  has  been  often  translated.  The  whole  history  maybe 
found  in  the  Hervarar-Saga.  Indeed,  the  ghosts  of  the  north¬ 
ern  warriors  were  not  wont  tamely  to  suffer  their  tombs  to 
be  plundered;  and  hence  the  mortal  heroes  had  an  addi¬ 
tional  temptation  to  attempt  such  adventures ;  for  they  held 
nothing  more  worthy  of  their  valour  than  to  encounter  su¬ 
pernatural  beings. — Bartholinus  De  causis  contemptce  a 
Danis  mortis ,  lib.  i.  cap.  2,  9,  10,  13. 

2  [  “  The  third  song  is  intended  to  represent  that  wild  style 
of  composition  which  prevailed  among  the  bards  of  the  North¬ 
ern  Continent,  somewhat  softened  and  adorned  by  the  Min¬ 
strel’s  residence  in  the  South.  We  prefer  it,  upon  the  whole, 


200 


THE  LAY  OF 


I". CANTO  VI. 


Soft  is  the  note,  and  sad  the  lay, 

That  mourns  the  lovely  Rosabelle.1 

— “  Moor,  moor  the  barge,  ye  gallant  crew  ! 

And,  gentle  ladye,  deign  to  stay  ! 

Rest  thee  in  Castle  Ravensheuch,2 
Nor  tempt  the  stormy  firth  to-day. 

“  The  blackening  wave  is  edged  with  white ; 

To  inch3  and  rock  the  sea-mews  fly ; 

The  fishers  have  heard  the  Water-Sprite, 
Whose  screams  forebode  that  wreck  is  ni«:h. 

O 


“  Last  night  the  gifted  Seer  did  view 

A  wet  shroud  swathed  4  round  ladye  gay ; 

to  either  of  the  two  former,  and  shall  give  it  entire  to  our 
readers,  who  will  probably  be  struck  with  the  poetical  effect 
of  the  dramatic  form  into  which  it  is  thrown,  and  of  the  in¬ 
direct  description  by  which  every  thing  is  most  expressively 
told,  without  one  word  of  distinct  narrative.” — Jeffkey.] 

1  This  was  a  family  name  in  the  house  of  St.  Clair.  Henry 
St.  Clair,  the  second  of  the  line,  married  Rosabelle,  fourth 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Stratherne. 

2  A  large  and  strong  castle,  now  ruinous,  situated  betwixt 
Kirkaldy  and  Dysart,  on  a  steep  crag,  washed  by  the  Frith 
of  Forth.  It  was  conferred  on  Sir  William  St.  Clair,  as  a 
slight  compensation  for  the  earldom  of  Orkney,  by  a  charter 
of  King  James  III.,  dated  in  1471,  and  is  now  the  property 
of  Sir  James  St.  Clair  Erskine,  (now  Earl  of  Rosslyn,)  repre¬ 
sentative  of  the  family.  It  was  long  a  principal  residence 
of  the  Barons  of  Roslin. 

3  Inch,  Isle. 

4  [Fii'st  Edit. — “  A  wet  shroud  roll'd."] 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


201 


Then  stay  thee,  Fair,  in  Ravensheuch : 
Why  cross  the  gloomy  firth  to-day  ?  ” — 

“  ’Tis  not  because  Lord  Lindesay’s  heir 
To-night  at  Roslin  leads  the  ball, 

But  that  my  lady  e-mother  there 
Sits  lonely  in  her  castle  hall. 

“  ’Tis  not  because  the  ring  they  ride, 

And  Lindesay  at  the  ring  rides  well, 

But  that  my  sire  the  wine  will  chide, 

If  ’tis  not  fill’d  by  Rosabelle.” — 

O’er  Roslin  all  that  dreary  night, 

A  wondrous  blaze  was  seen  to  gleam ; 

’Twas  broader  than  the  watch-fire’s  light, 
And  redder  than  the  bright  moon-beam. 

It  glared  on  Roslin’s  castled  rock, 

It  ruddied1  all  the  copse-wood  glen  ; 

’Twas  seen  from  Dryden’s  groves  of  oak, 
And  seen  from  cavern’d  Hawthornden. 

Seem’d  all  on  fire  that  chapel  proud, 
Where  Roslin’s  chiefs  uncofihfd  lie, 

Each  Baron,  for  a  sable  shroud, 

Sheathed  in  his  iron  panoply. 


1  [Fiist  Edit. — “  It  reddened &c.] 


202 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


Seem’d  all  on  fire  within,  around, 

Deep  sacristy1  and  altar’s  pale  ; 

Shone  every  pillar  foliage-bound, 

And  glimmer’d  all  the  dead  men’s  mail.' 

1  [ First  Edit.— 11  Both  vaulted  crypt,”  &c.] 

2  The  beautiful  chapel  of  Roslin  is  still  in  tolerable  preserva 
tion.  It  was  founded  in  1446,  by  William  St.  Clair,  Prince 
of  Orkney,  Duke  of  Oldenburgh,  Earl  of  Caithness  and  Stra- 
therne,  Lord  St.  Clair,  Lord  Niddesdale,  Lord  Admiral  of  the 
Scottish  Seas,  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  Scotland.  Lord  Warden 
of  the  three  Mai*ches,  Baron  of  Roslin,  Pentland,  Pentland- 
moor,  &c.,  Knight  of  the  Cockle,  and  of  the  Garter,  (as  is 
affirmed,)  High  Chancellor,  Chamberlain,  and  Lieutenant  of 
Scotland.  This  lofty  person,  whose  titles,  says  Godscroft, 
might  weary  a  Spaniard,  built  the  castle  of  Roslin,  where  he 
resided  in  princely  splendour,  and  founded  the  chapel,  which 
is  in  the  most  rich  and  florid  style  of  Gothic  architecture. 
Among  the  profuse  carving  on  the  pillars  and  buttresses,  the 
rose  is  frequently  introduced,  in  allusion  to  the  name,  with 
which,  however,  the  flower  has  no  connection ;  the  etymology 
being  Rosslinnhe,  the  promontory  of  the  linn,  or  water-fall. 
The  chapel  is  said  to  appear  on  fire  previous  to  the  death  of 
any  of  his  descendants.-  This  superstition,  noticed  by  Slezer 
in  his  Theatrum  Scotia; ,  and  alluded  to  in  the  text,  is  probably 
of  Norwegian  derivation,  and  may  have  been  imported  by  the 
Earls  of  Orkney  into  their  Lothian  dominions.  The  tomb- 
fires  of  the  north  are  mentioned  in  most  of  the  Sagas. 

The  Barons  of  Roslin  were  buried  in  a  vault  beneath  the 
chapel  floor.  The  manner  of  their  interment  is  thus  described 
by  Father  Hay  in  the  MS.  history  already  quoted. 

“  Sir  William  Sinclair,  the  father,  was  a  leud  man.  He 
kept  a  miller’s  daughter,  with  whom,  it  is  alleged,  he  went  to 
Ireland;  yet  I  think  the  cause  of  his  retreat  was  rather  occa¬ 
sioned  by  the  Presbyterians,  who  Vexed  him  sadly,  because 
of  his  religion  being  Roman  Catholic.  His  son,  Sir  W  illiam, 
died  during  the  troubles,  and  was  interred  in  the  chapel  of 
Roslin  the  very  same  day  that  the  battle  of  Dunbar  was 


CANTO  VI.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  203 

Blazed  battlement  and  pinnet  high, 

Blazed  every  rose-carved  buttress  fair — 

So  still  they  blaze,  when  fate  is  nigli 
The  lordly  line  of  high  St.  Clair. 

There  are  twenty  of  Roslirfs  barons  bold 
Lie  buried  within  that  proud  chapelle  ; 

Each  one  the  holy  vault  doth  hold — 

But  the  sea  holds  lovely  Rosabelle ! 

And  each  St.  Clair  was  buried  there, 

With  candle,  with  book,  and  with  knell ; 

But  the  sea-caves  rung,  and  the  wild  winds 
sung,1 

The  dirge  of  lovely  Rosabelle. 


fought.  When  my  good-father  was  buried,  his  ( i .  e.  Sir  Wil¬ 
liam’s)  corpse  seemed  to  be  entire  at  the  opening  of  the  cave; 
but  when  they  came  to  touch  his  body,  it  fell  into  dust.  He 
was  laying  in  his  armour,  with  a  red  velvet  cap  on  his  head, 
on  a  flat  stone;  nothing  was  spoiled  except  a  piece  of  the 
white  furring  that  went  round  the  cap,  and  answered  to  the 
hinder  part  of  the  head.  All  his  predecessors  were  buried 
after  the  same  manner,  in  their  armour:  late  Rosline,  my 
good-father,  was  the  first  that  was  buried  in  a  coffin,  against 
the  sentiments  of  King  James  the  Seventh,  who  was  then  in 
Scotland,  and  several  other  persons  well  versed  in  antiquity, 
to  whom  my  mother  would  not  hearken,  thinking  it  beggarly 
to  be  buried  after  that  manner.  The  great  expenses  she  was 
at  in  burying  her  husband,  occasioned  the  sumptuary  acts 
which  were  made  in  the  following  parliament.” 

1  [First  Edit. — “  But  the  Kelpie  rung  and  the  Mermaids 
sung.”J 


204 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


XXI Y. 

So  sweet  was  Harold’s  piteous  lay,1 

Scarce  mark’d  the  guests  the  darken’d  hall, 
Though,  long  before  the  sinking  day, 

A  wondrous  shade  involved  them  all : 

It  was  not  eddying  mist  or  fog, 

Drain’d  by  the  sun  from  fen  or  bog ; 

Of  no  eclipse  had  sages  told  ; 

And  yet,  as  it  came  on  apace, 

Each  one  could  scarce  his  neighbour’s  face, 
Could  scarce  his  own  stretch’d  hand  behpld. 
A  secret  horror  check’d  the  feast, 

And  chill’d  the  soul  of  every  guest ; 

Even  the  high  Dame  stood  half  aghast, 

She  knew  some  evil  on  the  blast ; 

The  elvish  page  fell  to  the  ground, 

And,  shuddering,  mutter’d,  “Found!  found! 
found  !  ” 

XXV. 

Then  sudden,  through  the  darken’d  air 
A  flash  of  lightning  came ; 

So  broad,  so  bright,  so  red  the  glare, 

The  castle  seemed  on  flame. 

Glanced  every  rafter  of  the  hall, 

Glanced  every  shield  upon  the  wall ; 

Each  trophied  beam,  each  sculptured  stone, 
Were  instant  seen,  and  instant  gone; 

Full  through  the  guests’  bedazzled  band 

i  [“I  observe  a  great  poetic  climax,  designed,, doubtless,  in 
the  last  two  of  these  songs,  from  the  first.” — Anna  Seward.  J 


CANTO  VI.  J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


205 


Resistless  flash’d  the  levin-brand, 

And  fill’d  the  hall  with  smouldering  smoke, 

As  on  the  elvish  page  it  broke. 

It  broke,  with  thunder  long  and  loud. 
Dismay’d  the  brave,  appall’d  the  proud, — 
From  sea  to  sea  the  larum  rung  ; 

On  Berwick  wall,  and  at  Carlisle  withal, 

To  arms  the  star  led  warders  sprung. 
When  ended  was  the  dreadful  roar, 

The  elvish  dwarf  was  seen  no  more ! 1 

1  [“  The  Goblin  Page  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  capital  deform¬ 
ity  of  the  poem.  We  have  already  said  the  whole  machinery 
is  useless ;  but  the  magic  studies  of  the  lady,  and  the  rifled 
tomb  of  Michael  Scott,  give  occasion  to  so  much  admirable 
poetry,  that  we  can  on  no  account  consent  to  part  with  them. 
The  page,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  perpetual  burden  to  the 
poet,  and  to  the  readers ;  it  is  an  undignified  and  improbable 
fiction,  which  excites  neither  terror,  admiration,  nor  astonish¬ 
ment,  but  needlessly  debases  the  strain  of  the  whole  work, 
and  excites  at  once  our  incredulity  and  contempt.  He  is  not 
a  ‘  tricksy  spirit,’  like  Ariel,  with  whom  the  imagination  is 
irresistibly  enamoured,  nor  a  tiny  monarch,  like  Oberon,  dis¬ 
posing  of  the  destinies  of  m  ortals ;  he  rather  appears  to  us  to 
be  an  awkward  sort  of  a  mongrel  between  Puck  and  Cali¬ 
ban,  of  a  servile  and  brutal  nature,  and  limited  in  his  powers 
to  the  indulgence  of  petty  malignity,  and  the  infliction  of 
despicable  injuries.  Besides  this  objection  to  his  character, 
his  existence  has  no  support  from  any  general  or  established 
superstition.  Fairies  and  devils,  ghosts,  angels,  and  witches, 
are  creatures  with  whom  we  are  all  familiar,  and  who  excite 
in  all  classes  of  mankind  emotions  with  which  we  can  easily 
be  made  to  sympathize.  But  the  history  of  Gilpin  Horner 
was  never  believed  out  of  the  village  where  he  is  said  to  have 
made  his  appearance,  and  has  no  claims  upon  the  credulity 
of  those  who  were  not  originally  of  his  acquaintance.  There 


206 


[CANTO  VI. 


THE  LAY  OF 

XXYI. 

Some  heard  a  voice  in  Branksome  Hall, 

Some  saw  a  sight,  not  seen  by  all ; 

That  dreadful  voice  was  heard  by  some, 

Cry,  with  loud  summons,  “  Gylbin,  come  !  ” 

And  on  the  spot  where  burst  the  brand, 

Just  where  the  page  had  flung  him  down, 

Some  saw  an  arm,  and  some  a  hand, 

And  some  the  waving  of  a  gown. 

The  guests  in  silence  pray’d  and  shook, 

And  terror  dimm’d  each  lofty  look. 

But  none  of  all  the  astonish’d  train  • 

Was  so  dismay’d  as  Deloraine  ; 

Ilis  blood  did  freeze,  his  brain  did  burn, 

’Twas  fear’d  his  mind  would  ne’er  return  ; 

For  he  was  speechless,  ghastly,  wan, 

Like  him  of  whom  the  story  ran, 


is  nothing  at  all  interesting  or  elegant  in  the  scenes  of  which 
he  is  the  hero;  and  in  reading  these  passages,  we  really 
could  not  help  suspecting  that  they  did  not  stand  in  the 
romance  when  the  aged  minstrel  recited  it  to  the  royal 
Charles  and  his  mighty  earls,  but  were  inserted  afterwards  to 
suit  the  taste  of  the  cottagers  among  whom  he  begged  his 
bread  on  the  Border.  We  entreat  Mr.  Scott  to  inquire  into 
the  grounds  of  this  suspicion,  and  to  take  advantage  of  any 
decent  pretext  he  can  lay  hold  of  for  purging  the  ‘  Lay  ’  of 
this  ungraceful  intruder. 1  We  would  also  move  for  a  quo 
warranto  against  the  Spirits  of  the  River  and  the  Mountain; 
for,  though  they  are  come  of  a  very  high  lineage,  we  do  not 
know  what  lawful  business  they  could  have  at  Branksome 
Castle  in  the  year  1550.” — Jeffrey.] 

1  See  the  Author’s  introduction  to  the  “  Lay,”  p.  21. 


CANTO  VI.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


207 


Who  spoke  the  spectre-hound  in  Man.1 
At  length,  by  fits,  he  darkly  told, 

With  broken  hint,  and  shuddering  cold — 

i  The  ancient  castle  of  Peel-town  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  is  sur¬ 
rounded  by  four  churches,  now  ruinous.  Through  one  of 
these  chapels  there  was  formerly  a  passage  from  the  guard- 
room  of  the  garrison.  This  was  closed,  it  is  said,  upon  the  fol¬ 
lowing  occasion :  “  They  say,  that  an  apparition,  called  in  the 
Mankish  language,  the  Mauthe  Doog ,  in  the  shape  of  a  large 
black  spaniel,  with  curled  shaggy  hair,  was  used  to  haunt 
Peel-castle;  and  has  been  frequently  seen  in  every  room,  but 
particularly  in  the  guard-chamber,  where,  as  soon  as  candles 
were  lighted,  it  came  and  lay  down  before  the  lire,  in  pres¬ 
ence  of  all  the  soldiers,  who,  at  length,  by  being  so  much 
accustomed  to  the  sight  of  it,  lost  great  part  of  the  terror  they 
were  seized  with  at  it's  first  appearance.  They  still,  how¬ 
ever,  retained  a  certain  awe,  as  believing  it  was  an  evil  spirit, 
which  only  waited  permission  to  do  them  hurt ;  and  for  that 
reason,  forebore  swearing,  and  all  profane  discourse,  while  in 
its  company.  But  though  they  endured  the  shock  of  such  a 
guest  when  altogether  in  a  body,  none  cared  to  be  left  alone 
with  it.  It  being  the  custom,  therefore,  for  one  of  the  sol¬ 
diers  to  lock  the  gates  of  the  castle  at  a  certain  hour,  and 
carry  the  keys  to  the  captain,  to  whose  apartment,  as  1  said 
before,  the  way  led  through  the  church,  they  agreed  among 
themselves,  that  whoever  was  to  succeed  the  ensuing  night 
his  fellow  in  this  errand,  should  accompany  him  that  went 
first,  and  by  this  means  no  man  would  be  exposed  singly  to 
the  danger;  fori  forgot  to  mention,  that  the  Mauthe  Doog 
was  always  seen  to  come  out  from  that  passage  at  the  close 
of  the  day,  and  return  to  it  again  as  soon  as  the  morning 
dawned;  which  made  them  look  on  this  place  as  its  peculiar 
residence. 

“  One  night  a  fellow  being  drunk,  and  by  the  strength  of 
his  iiquor  rendered  more  daring  than  ordinarily,  laughed  at 
the  simplicity  of  his  companions;  and,  though  it  was  not  his 
turn  to  go  with  the  keys,  would  needs  take  that  office  upon 
him,  to  testify  his  courage.  All  the  soldiers  endeavoured  to 


208 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


That  he  had  seen,  right  certainly, 

A  shape  with  amice  wrapp'd  around , 

With  a  wrought  Spanish  baldric  bound , 

Like  pilgrim  from  beyond  the  sea  ; 

And  knew — but  how  it  matter’d  not — 

It  was  the  wizard,  Michael  Scott. 

XXVII. 

The  anxious  crowd,  with  horror  pale, 

All  trembling  heard  the  wondrous  tale  ; 

dissuade  him ;  but  the  more  they  said,  the  more  resolute  he 
seemed,  and  swore  that  lie  des?red  nothing  more  than  that  the 
Mauthe  Doog  woul'd  follow  him  as  it  had  done  the  others;  for 
he  would  try  if  he  were  dog  or  devil.  After  having  talked  in 
a  very  reprobate  manner  for  some  time,  he  snatched  up  the 
keys,  and  went  out  of  the  guard-room.  In  some  time  after 
his  departure  a  great  noise  was  heard,  but  nobody  had  the 
boldness  to  see  what  occasioned  it,  till,  the  adventurer  return¬ 
ing,  they  demanded  the  knowledge  of  him;  but  as  loud  and 
noisy  as  he  had  been  at  leaving  them,  he  was  now  become  sober 
and  silent  enough ;  for  he  was  never  heard  to  speak  more ; 
and  though  all  the  time  he  lived,  which  was  three  days,  he 
was  entreated  by  all  who  came  near  him,  either  to  speak,  or, 
if  he  could  not  do  that,  to  make  some  signs,  by  which  they 
might  understand  what  had  happened  to  him,  yet  nothing 
intelligible  could  be  got  from  him,  only  that,  by  the  distor¬ 
tion  of  his  limbs  and  features,  it  might  be  guessed  that  he 
died  in  agonies  more  than  is  common  in  a  natural  death. 

“  The  Mauthe  Doog  was,  however,  never  after  seen  in  the 
castle,  nor  would  any  one  attempt  to  go  through  that  pas¬ 
sage  ;  for  which  reason  it  was  closed  up,  and  another  way 
made.  This  accident  happened  about  threescore  years 
since;  and  I  heard  it  attested  by  several,  but  especially  by 
an  old  soldier,  who  assured  me  he  had  seen  it  oftener  than  he 
nad  then  hairs  on  his  head.” — Waldkon’s  Description  of  the 
Isle  of  Man ,  p.  107. 


CANTO  VI.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  209 

No  sound  was  made,  no  word  was  spoke, 

Till  noble  Angus  silence  broke  ; 

And  lie  a  solemn  sacred  plight 
Did  to  St.  Bride  of  Douglas  make,1 
That  he  a  pilgrimage  would  take 
To  Melrose  Abbey,  for  the  sake 
Of  Michael’s  restless  sprite. 

Then  each,  to  ease  his  troubled  breast, 

To  some  bless’d  saint  his  prayers  address’d  : 
Some  to  St.  Modan  made  their  vows, 

Some  to  St.  Mary  of  the  Lowes, 

Some  to  the  Holy  Rood  of  Lisle, 

Some  to  our  Ladye  of  the  Isle  ; 

Each  did  his  patron  witness  make, 

That  he  such  pilgrimage  would  take, 

And  Monks  should  sing,  and  bells  should  toll. 
All  for  the  weal  of  Michael’s  soul. 

While  vows  were  ta’en,  and  prayers  were  pray’d, 
’Tis  said  the  noble  dame,  dismay’d, 

Renounced,  for  aye,  dark  magic’s  aid. 

1  This  was  a  favourite  saint  of  the  house  of  Douglas,  and 
of  the  Earl  of  Angus  in  particular;  as  we  learn  from  the  fol¬ 
lowing  passage:  “  The  Queen-regent  had  proposed  to  raise 
a  rival  noble  to  the  ducal  dignity;  and  discoursing  of  her 
purpose  with  Angus,  he  answered,  ‘  Why  not,  madam?  we 
are  happy  that  have  such  a  princess,  that  can  know  and 
will  acknowledge  men’s  services,  and  is  willing  to  recom¬ 
pense  it;  but,  by  the  might  of  God,’  (this  was  his  oath  when 
he  was  serious  and  in  anger;  at  other  times,  it  was  by  St. 
Bryde  of  Douglas,)  ‘if  he  be  a  Duke,  I  will  be  a  Drake!  ’ — 
So  she  desisted  from  prosecuting  of  that  purpose.” — Gods- 
CROFT,  vol.  ii.  p.  131. 

VOL.  I. 


14 


210 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI 


XXVIII. 

Nought  of  the  bridal  will  I  tell, 

Which  after  in  short  space  befell ; 

Nor  how  brave  sons  and  daughters  fair 
Bless’d  Teviot’s  Flower,  and  Cranstoun’s  heir 
After  such  dreadful  scene,  ’twere  vain 
To  wake  the  note  of  mirth  again. 

More  meet  it  were  to  mark  the  day 
Of  penitence  and  prayer  divine, 

When  pilgrim-chiefs,  in  sad  array, 

Sought  Melrose’  holy  shrine. 

XXIX. 

With  naked  foot,  and  sackcloth  vest, 

And  arms  enfolded  on  his  breast, 

Did  every  pilgrim  go  ; 

The  standers-by  might  hear  uneath, 

Footstep,  or  voice,  or  high-drawn  breath, 
Through  all  the  lengthen’d  row  : 

No  lordly  look,  nor  martial  stride, 

Gone  was  their  glory,  sunk  their  pride, 
Forgotten  their  renown  ; 

Silent  and  slow,  like  ghosts  they  glide 
To  the  high  altar’s  hallow’d  side, 

And  there  they  knelt  them  down : 

Above  the  suppliant  chieftains  wave 
The  banners  of  departed  brave  ; 

Beneath  the  letter’d  stones  were  laid 
The  ashes  of  their  fathers  dead ; 

From  many  a  garnish’d  niche  around, 

Stern  saints  and  tortured  martyrs  frown’d. 


CANTO  VI.  J 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


211 


XXX. 

And  slow  up  the  dim  aisle  afar, 

With  sable  cowl  and  scapular, 

And  snow-white  stoles,  in  order  due, 

The  holy  Fathers,  two  and  two, 

In  long  procession  came ; 

Taper,  and  host,  and  book  they  bare, 

And  holy  banner,  flourish’d  fair 
With  the  Redeemer’s  name. 

Above  the  prostrate  pilgrim  band 
The  mitred  Abbot  stretch’d  his  hand, 

And  bless’d  them  as  they  kneel’d ; 

With  holy  cross  he  sign’d  them  all, 

And  pray’d  they  might  be  sage  in  hall, 

And  fortunate  in  field. 

Then  mass  was  sung,  and  prayers  were  said, 
And  solemn  requiem  for  the  dead; 

And  bells  toll’d  out  their  mighty  peal, 

For  the  departed  spirit’s  weal ; 

And  ever  in  the  office  close 
The  hymn  of  intercession  rose  ; 

And  far  the  echoing  aisles  prolong 
The  awful  burden  of  the  song, — 

Dies  ir.e,  dies  illa, 

SoLVET  SiECLUM  IN  FA  VILLA  ; 

While  the  pealing  organ  rung ; 

Were  it  meet  with  sacred  strain 
To  close  my  lay,  so  light  and  vain, 

Thus  the  holy  Fathers  sung. 


212 


THE  LAY  OF 


[CANTO  VI. 


XXXI. 

HYMN  FOR  THE  DEAD. 

That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day, 

When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 
What  power  shall  be  the  sinner’s  stay  ? 

How  shall  he  meet  that  dreadful  day  ? 

When,  shrivelling  like  a  parched  scroll, 

The  flaming  heavens  together  roll ; 

When  louder  yet,  and  yet  more  dread, 
Swells  the  high  trump  that  wakes  the  dead  ! 

Oh  !  on  that  day,  that  wrathful  day, 

When  man  to  judgment  wakes  from  clay, 

Be  Thou  the  trembling  sinner’s  stay, 
Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away  ! 


Hush’d  is  the  harp — the  Minstrel  gone, 
And  did  he  wander  forth  alone  ? 

Alone,  in  indigence  and  age, 

To  linger  out  his  pilgrimage  ? 

No : — close  beneath  proud  Newark’s  tower,1 
Arose  the  Minstrel’s  lowly  bower  ; 

1 - [“  the  vale  unfolds 

Rich  groves  of  lofty  stature, 

With  Yarrow  winding  through  the  pomp 
Of  cultivated  nature; 


CANTO  VI.] 


THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


213 


A  simple  hut ;  but  there  was  seen 
The  little  garden  hedged  with  green, 

The  cheerful  hearth,  and  lattice  clean. 
There  shelter’d  wanderers,  by  the  blaze, 
Oft  heard  the  tale  of  other  days  ; 

For  much  he  loved  to  ope  his  door, 

And  give  the  aid  he  begg’d  before. 

So  pass’d  the  winter’s  day  ;  but  still, 
When  summer  smiled  on  sweet  Bowhill,1 
And  July’s  eve,  with  balmy  breath, 
Waved  the  blue-bells  on  Newark  heath  ; 
When  throstles  sung  in  IJarehead-shaw, 
And  corn  was  green  on  Carterhaugh,2 
And  flourish’d,  broad,  Blackandro’s  oak, 
The  aged  Harper’s  soul  awoke  ! 


“  And,  rising  from  those  lofty  groves, 

Behold  a  ruin  hoary, 

The  shattered  front  of  Newark’s  towers, 

Renow’d  in  Border  story. 

“  Fair  scenes  for  childhood’s  opening  bloom, 

For  sportive  youth  to  stray  in; 

For  manhood  to  enjoy  his  strength; 

And  age  to  wear  away  in,”  &c. 

Wordsworth’s  Yarrow  Visited.} 

1  [Bowhill  is  now,  as  has  been  mentioned  already,  a  seat 
of  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch.  It  stands  immediately  below 
Newark  Hill,  and  above  the  junction  of  the  Yarrow  and  the 
Ettrick.  For  the  other  places  named  in  the  text,  the  reader 
is  referred  to  various  notes  on  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish 
Border. — Ed.] 

2  [  Orig. — u  And  grain  waved  green  on  Carterhaugh.”] 


214 


THE  LAY  OF 


[canto  yi. 


Then  would  he  sing  achievements  high. 
And  circumstance  of  chivalry, 

Till  the  rapt  traveller  would  stay, 
Forgetful  of  the  closing  day  ; 

And  noble  youths,  the  strain  to  hear, 
Forsook  the  hunting  of  the  deer  ; 

And  Yarrow,  as  he  roll’d  along, 

Bore  burden  to  the  Minstrel’s  song.1 


1  [“  The  large  quotations  we  have  made  from  this  singu¬ 
lar  poem  must  have  convinced  our  readers  that  it  abounds 
equally  with  poetical  description,  and  with  circumstances 
curious  to  the  antiquary.  These  are  further  illustrated  in 
copious  and  very  entertaining  notes:  they,  as  well  as  the 
poem,  must  be  particularly  interesting  to  those  who  are 
connected  with  Scottish  families,  or  conversant  in  their  his- 
t°ry.  The  author  has  managed  the  versification  of  the  poem 
with  great  judgment,  and  the  most  happy  effect.  If  he  had 
aimed  at  the  grave  and  stately  cadence  of  the  epic,  or  any 
of  our  more  regular  measures,  it  would  have  been  impossi¬ 
ble  for  him  to  have  brought  in  such  names  as  Watt  Tinlinn, 
Black  John ,  Pnesthaugh ,  Scrogg ,  and  other  Scottish  names, 
or  to  have  spoken  of  the  lyke-wake ,  and  the  slogan,  and  driv¬ 
ing  of  cattle ,  which  Pope  and  Gray  would  have  thought  as 
impossible  to  introduce  into  serious  poetry,  as  Boileau  did 
the  names  of  towns  in  the  campaigns  of  Louis  IV.  Mr. 
Scott  has,  therefore,  very  judiciously  thrown  in  a  great  mix¬ 
ture  of  the  familiar,  and  varied  the  measure;  and  if  it  has 
not  the  finished  harmony  which,  in  such  a  subject,  it  were 
in  vain  to  have  attempted,  it  has  great  ease  and  spirit,  and 
never  tires  the  reader.  Indeed,  we  think  we  see  a  tendency 
in  the  public  taste  to  go  back  to  the  more  varied  measures 
and  familiar  style  of  our  earlier  poets;  a  natural  consequence 
of  having  been  satiated  with  the  regular  harmony  of  Pope 
and  his  school,  and  somewhat  wearied  with  the  stiffness  of 


CANTO  VI.]  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


215 


lofty  poetic  language.  We  know  now  what  can  he  done  in 
that  way,  and  we  seek  entertainment  and  variety,  rather 
than  finished  modulation  and  uniform  dignity.  We  now 
take  our  leave  of  this  very  elegant,  spirited,  and  striking 
poem.” — Annual  Review ,  1804.] 

[“  From  the  various  extracts  we  have  given,  our  readers 
will  be  enabled  to  form  a  tolerably  correct  judgment  of  the 
poem;  and,  if  they  arq  pleased  with  those  portions  of  it 
which  have  now  been  exhibited,  we  may  venture  to  assure 
them  that  they  will  not  be  disappointed  by  the  perusal  of  the 
whole,  frhe  whole  knight  journey  of  Deloraine— the  open¬ 
ing  of  the  Wizard’s  tomb— the  march  of  the  English  battle — 
and  the  parley  before  the  walls  of  the  castle,  are  all  exe¬ 
cuted  with  the  same  spirit  and  poetical  enei'gy,  which  we 
think  is  conspicuous  in  the  specimens  we  have  already  ex¬ 
tracted,  and  a  great  variety  of  short  passages  occur  in  every 
part  of  the  poem,  which  are  still  more  striking  and  meritori¬ 
ous,  though  it  is  impossible  to  detach  them,  without  injury, 
in  the  form  of  a  quotation.  It  is  but  fair  to  apprise  the  read¬ 
er,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  will  meet  with  very  heavy 
passages,  and  with  a  variety  of  details  which  are  not  likely 
to  interest  any  one  but  a  Borderer  or  an  antiquary.  We 
like  very  well  to  hear  of  ‘  the  gallant  Chief  of  Otterburne,’ 
or ‘the  Dark  Knight  of  Liddesdale,’  and  feel  the  elevating 
power  of  great  names,  when  we  read  of  the  tribes  that  mus¬ 
tered  to  the  war,  ‘  beneath  the  crest  of  old  Dunbar  and  Hep¬ 
burn’s  mingled  banners.’  But  we  really  cannot  so  far  sym¬ 
pathize  with  the  local  partialities  of  the  author,  as  to  feel 
any  glow  of  patriotism  or  ancient  virtue  in  hearing  of  the 
Todrig  or  Johnston  clans,  or  of  Elliots ,  Armstrongs ,  and  Tin- 
linns  ;  still  less  can  we  relish  the  introduction  of  Black  Jock 
of  Athelstane,  Whitslade  the  Hawk ,  Arthur  Fire-the-braes ,  Red 
Roland  Forster ,  or  any  other  of  those  worthies,  who 

“  Sought  the  beeves  that  made  their  broth, 

In  Scotland  and  in  England  both,” 


into  a  poem  which  has  any  pretensions  to  seriousness  or  dig- 


216  THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  [CANTO  VI. 

nity.  The  ancient  metrical  romance  might  have  admitted 
these  homely  personalities ;  but  the  present  age  will  not  en¬ 
dure  them ;  and  Mr.  Scott  must  either  sacrifice  his  Border 
prejudices  or  offend  all  his  readers  in  the  other  parts  of  the 
empire.” — Jeffrey.] 


APPENDIX 

TO  THE 


LAY  OP  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  A. 

The  feast  teas  over  in  Branksome  tower — P.  43. 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.,  Sir  William  Scott  of  Buc- 
cleucli,  chief  of  the  clan  bearing  that  name,  exchanged, 
with  Sir  Thomas  Inglis,  of  Manor,  the  estate  of  Mur- 
dieston,  in  Lanarkshire,  for  one-lialf  of  the  barony  of 
Branksome,  or  Brankholm,1  lying  upon  the  Teviot, 
about  three  miles  above  Hawick.  He  was  probably 
induced  to  this  transaction  from  the  vicinity  of  Brank¬ 
some  to  the  extensive  domain  which  he  possessed  in 
Ettrick  Forest  and  in  Teviotdale.  In  the  former  dis¬ 
trict  he  held  by  occupancy  the  estate  of  Buccleuch,2 

1  Branxholm  is  the  proper  name  of  the  barony;  but  Brank 
some  has  been  adopted,  as  suitable  to  the  pronunciation,  and 
more  proper  for  poetry. 

2  There  are  no  vestiges  of  any  building  at  Buccleuch,  ex¬ 
cept  the  site  of  a  chapel,  where,  according  to  a  tradition 


220 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


and  much  of  the  forest  land  on  the  River  Ettrick.  In 
Teviotdale,  he  enjoyed  the  barony  of  Edkford,  by  a 
grant  from  Robert  II.,  to  his  ancestor,  Walter  Scott  of 
Kirkurd,  for  the  apprehending  of  Gilbert  Ridderford, 
confirmed  by  Robert  III.,  3d  May,  1424.  Tradition 
imputes  the  exchange  betwixt  Scott  and  Inglis  to  a 
conversation,  in  which  the  latter,  a  man,  it  would  ap¬ 
peal,  of  a  mild  and  forbearing  nature,  complained 
much  of  the  injuries  which  he  was  exposed  to  from  the 
English  Borderers,  who  frequently  plundered  his 
lands  of  Branksome.  Sir  William  Scott  instantly 
offered  him  the  estate  of  Murdiestone,  in  exchange 
tor  that  which  was  subject  to  such  egregious  incon¬ 
venience.  When  the  bargain  was  completed,  he  dryly 
remarked,  that  the  cattle  in  Cumberland  were  as  good 
as  those  of  Teviotdale ;  and  proceeded  to  commence 
a  system  of  reprisals  upon  the  English,  which  was 
regularly  pursued  by  his  successors.  In  the  next  reign 
James  II.  granted  to  Sir  Walter  Scott  of  Branksome, 
and  to  Sir  David,  his  son,  the  remaining  half  of  the 
barony  of  Branksome,  to  be  held  in  blanche  for  the 
payment  of  a  red  rose.  The  cause  assigned  for  the 
grant  is,  their  brave  and  faithful  exertions  in  favor  of 
the  King  against  the  house  of  Douglas,  writh  whom 
James  had  been  recently  tugging  for  the  throne  of 
Scotland.  This  charter  is  dated  the  2d  February, 
1443;  and,  in  the  same  month,  part  of  the  barony  of 

current  in  the  time  of  Scott  of  Satchells,  many  of  the  an¬ 
cient  barons  of  Buccleuch  lie  buried.  There  is  also  said  to 
have  been  a  mill  near  this  solitary  spot;  an  extraordinary 
circumstance,  as  little  or  no  corn  grows  within  several  miles 
of  Buccleuch.  Satchells  says  it  was  used  to  grind  corn  for 
the  hounds  of  the  chieftain. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


221 


Langholm,  and  many  lands  in  Lanarkshire,  were  con¬ 
ferred  upon  Sir  Walter  and  his  son  by  the  same  monarch. 

After  the  period  of  the  exchange  with  Sir  Thomas 
Inglis,  Branksome  became  the  principal  seat  of  the 
Buccleuch  family.  The  castle  was  enlarged  and 
strengthened  by  Sir  David  Scott,  the  grandson  of  Sir 
William,  its  first  possessor.  But,  in  1570-1,  the  ven¬ 
geance  of  Elizabeth,  provoked  by  the  inroads  of  Buc¬ 
cleuch,  and  his  attachment  to  the  cause  of  Queen 
Mary,  destroyed  the  castle,  and  laid  waste  the  lands 
of  Branksome.  In  the  same  year  the  castle  was  re¬ 
paired  and  enlarged  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  its  brave 
possessor ;  but  the  work  was  not  completed  until  after 
his  death,  in  1574,  when  the  widow  finished  the  build¬ 
ing.  This  appears  from  the  following  inscriptions. 
Around  a  stone,  bearing  the  arms  of  Scott  of  Buc¬ 
cleuch,  appears  the  following  legend  : — 

“iatr  3N5J.  Scott  of  Bfiranpbcfm  Hfcnpt  oc  of  Sir  fU 
l term  Scott  of  Httkutb  Knot  began  pe  toorfc  upon  pc  24 
of  ptarclic  1571  net  qulja  bcpartit  at  (Golfs  pletsour  pc 
17  apttl  1574.” 

On  a  similar  copartment  are  sculptured  the  arms  of 
Douglas,  with  this  inscription.  “  Dame  Margaret 
Douglas  his  spous  completit  the  forsaid 
work  in  October,  1576.”  Over  an  arched  door  is 
inscribed  the  following  moral  verse  : — 


£-n.  harlb.  is.  nocljt.  nature,  bes.  brought,  pat.  sal.  lest.  ap. 
2Ei)arefore.  serbe.  (Gob.  fccfp.  bctl.  pe.  rob.  tbp.  fame.  sal. 
uoebt.  bcltap. 

Sir  *  Walter  Scot  of  liranpbolm  lintgbt.  fttargaret 
Uougtas.  1571. 


222 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Branksome  Castle  continued  to  be  the  principal 
seat  of  the  Buccleuch  family,  while  security  was  any 
object  in  their  choice  of  a  mansion.  It  has  since  been 
the  residence  of  the  Commissioners,  or  Chamberlains 
of  the  family.  From  the  various  alterations  which  the 
building  has  undergone,  it  is  not  only  greatly  restricted 
in  its  dimensions,  but  retains  little  of  the  castellated 
form,  if  we  except  one  square  tower  of  massy  thick¬ 
ness,  the  only  part  of  the  original  building  which  now 
remains.  The  whole  forms  a  handsome  modern  resi¬ 
dence,  lately  inhabited  by  my  deceased  friend,  Adam 
Ogilvy,  Esq.,  of  Hartwoodmyres,  Commissioner  of  his 
Grace  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch. 

The  extent  of  the  ancient  edifice  can  still  be  traced 
by  some  vestiges  of  its  foundation,  and  its  strength  is 
obvious  from  the  situation,  on  a  deep  bank  surrounded 
by  the  Teviot,  and  flanked  by  a  deep  ravine,  formed 
by  a  precipitous  brook.  It  was  anciently  surrounded 
by  wood,  as  appears  from  a  survey  of  Roxburghshire, 
made  for  Font’s  Atlas,  and  preserved  in  the  Advocates’ 
Library.  This  wood  was  cut  about  fifty  years  ago, 
but  is  now  replaced  by  the  thriving  plantations,  which 
have  been  formed  by  the  noble  proprietor,  for  miles 
around  the  ancient  mansion  of  his  forefathers. 

Note  B. 

Nine-and-twenty-knights  of  fame 

Hung  their  shields  in  Branksome- Hall. — P.  45. 

The  ancient  Barons  of  Buccleuch,  both  from  feudal 
splendour,  and  from  their  frontier  situation,  retained 
in  their  household,  at  Branksome,  a  number  of  gentle- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


223 


men  of  their  own  name,  who  held  lands  from  their 
chief,  for  the  military  service  of  watching  and  ward¬ 
ing  his  castle.  Satchells  tells  us,  in  his  doggrel 
poetry — 

“  No  baron  was  better  served  in  Britain : 

The  barons  of  Buckleugh  they  kept  their  call, 

Four  and  twenty  gentlemen  in  their  hall, 

All  being  of  his  name  and  kin; 

Each  two  had  a  servant  to  wait  upon  them ; 

Before  supper  and  dinner,  most  renowned, 

The  bells  rung  and  the  trumpets  sowned; 

And  more  than  that,  I  do  confess, 

They  kept  four  and  twenty  pensioners. 

Think  not  I  lie,  nor  do  me  blame, 

For  the  pensioners  I  can  all  name: 

There’s  men  alive,  elder  than  I, 

They  know  if  I  speak  truth,  or  lie. 

Every  pensioner  a  room1  did  gain, 

For  service  done  and  to  be  done; 

This  let  the  reader  understand, 

The  name  both  of  the  men  and  land, 

Which  they  possessed,  it  is  of  truth, 

Both  from  the  Lairds  and  Lords  of  Buckleugh.” 

0 

Accordingly,  dismounting  from  liis  Pegasus,  Sateh- 
ells  gives  us,  in  prose,  the  names  of  twenty-four  gen¬ 
tlemen,  younger  brothers  of  ancient  families,  who 
were  pensioners  to  the  house  of  Buceleuch,  and  de¬ 
scribes  the  lands  which  each  possessed  for  his  Border 
service.  In  time  of  war  with  England,  the  garrison  was 
doubtless  augmented.  Satchells  adds,  “  These  twenty- 
three  pensioners,  all  of  his  own  name  of  Scott,  and 
Walter  Gladstanes  of  Whitelaw,  a  near  cousin  of  my 
lord’s,  as  aforesaid,  were  ready  on  all  occasions,  when 
his  honour  pleased  cause  to  advertise  them.  It  is 


1  Boom,  portion  of  land. 


224 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


known  to  many  of  the  country  better  than  it  is  to 
•  me,  that  the  rent  of  these  lands  which  the  Lairds  and 
Lords  of  Buccleuch  did  freely  bestow  upon  their 
friends,  will  amount  to  above  twelve  or  fourteen  thou¬ 
sand  merks  a  year.” — History  of  the  Name  of  Scott, 
p.  45.  An  immense  sum  in  those  times. 

Note  C. 

They  watch ,  against  Southern  force  and.  guile , 

Lest  Scroop ,  or  Howard ,  or  Percy's  powers, 

Threaten  Branksome’s  lordly  towers, 

From  Warkworth ,  or  Naworth,  or  Merry  Carlisle. — P.46. 

Branksome  Castle  was  continually  exposed  to  the 
attacks  of  the  English,  both  from  its  situation  and  the 
restless  military  disposition  ot  its  inhabitants,  who 
were  seldom  on  good  terms  with  their  neighbours. 
The  following  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Northumber¬ 
land  to  Henry  VIII.  in  1533,  gives  an  account  of  a 
successful  inroad  of  the  English,  in  which  the  country 
was  plundered  up  to  the  gates  of  the  castle,  although 
the  invaders  failed  in  their  principal  object,  which  was 
to  kill,  or  make  prisoner,  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch.  It 
occurs  in  the  Cotton  MS.  Calig.  B.  VIII.  f.  222. 

“  Pleaseth  yt  your  most  gracious  highness  to  be 
aduertised,  that  my  comptroller,  with  Raynald  Carna¬ 
by,  desyred  licence  of  me  to  invade  the  realme  ot 
Scotland,  for  the  annoysaunce  of  your  highnes  ene- 
mys,  where  they  thought  best  exploit  by  tlieyme  might 
be  done,  and  to  haue  to  concur  withe  theyme  the  in¬ 
habitants  of  Northumberland,  suche  as  was  towards  me 
according  to  theyre  assembly,  and  as  by  theyre  discre- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


225 


tions  vpone  the  same  they  shulde  thinke  most  conve¬ 
nient  ;  and  soo  they  dyde  meet  vppon  Monday,  before 
night,  being  the  iii  day  of  this  instant  monethe,  at 
Wawhope,  upon  Northe  Tyne  water,  above  Tyndaill, 
where  they  were  to  the  number  of  xv  c  men,  and  soo 
invadet  Scotland  at  the  hour  of  viii  of  the  clok  at  nyght, 
at  a  place  called  Whele  Causay ;  and  before  xi  of  the 
clok  dyd  send  forth  a  forrey  of  Tyndaill  and  Ryddis- 
dail,  and  laide  all  the  resydewe  in  a  bushment,  and  ac- 
tyvely  did  set  vpon  a  towne  called  Branxholm,  where 
the  Lord  of  Buclough  dwellythe,  and  purpesed  theyme- 
selves  with  a  trayne  for  hym  lyke  to  his  accustomed 
manner,  in  rysynge  to  all  frayes  ;  albeit,  that  knyghte 
he  was  not  at  home,  and  so  they  brynt  the  said  Branx¬ 
holm,  and  other  townes,  as  to  say  Whichestre,  Whiches- 
tre-helme,  and  Whelley,  and  haid  ordered  theymeself, 
soo  that  sundry  of  the  said  Lord  Buclough’s  servants, 
who  dyd  issue  fourthe  of  his  gates,  was  takyn  prisoners. 
They  dyd  not  leve  one  house,  one  stak  of  corne,  nor  one 
shyef,  without  the  gate  of  the  said  Lord  Buclough 
vn brynt ;  and  thus  scrymaged  and  frayed,  supposing 
the  Lord  of  Buclough  to  be  within  iii  or  iiii  myles  to 
have  trayned  him  to  the  bushment ;  and  soo  in  the 
breyking  of  the  day  dyd  the  forrey  and  the  bushment 
mete,  and  reculed  homeward,  making  theyr  way  west¬ 
ward  from  theyre  invasion  to  be  over  Lyddersdaill,  as 
intending  yf  the  fray  frome  theyre  furst  entry  by  the 
Scotts  waiches,  or  otherwyse  by  warnying,  shulde  • 
liaue  bene  gyven  to  Gedworth  and  the  countrey  of 
Scotland  theyreabouts  of  theyre  invasion ;  whiehe  Ged¬ 
worth  is  from  the  Wlieles  Causay  vi  myles,  that  there¬ 
by  the  Scotts  shulde  have  comen  further  vnto  theyme, 
and  more  out  of  ordre ;  and  soo  upon  sundry  good 

15 


YOL.  I. 


226 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


considerations,  before  they  entered  Lyddersdaill,  as 
well  aecompting  the  inhabitants  of  the  same  to  be 
towards  your  highness,  and  to  enforce  theyme  the 
more  thereby,  as  alsoo  to  put  an  occasion  of  suspect  to 
the  Kinge  of  Scotts,  and  his  counsaill,  to  be  taken 
anenst  theyme,  amonges  theymeselves,  made  proclama- 
cions,  commanding,  vpon  payne  of  dethe,  assurance 
to  be  for  the  said  inhabitants  of  Lyddersdaill,  without 
any  prejudice  or  hurt  to  be  done  by  any  Inglysman 
vnto  theyme,  and  soo  in  good  ordre  abowte  the  howre 
of  ten  of  the  clok  before  none,  vppone  Tewisday,  dyd 
pass  through  the  said  Lyddersdail,  when  dyd  come 
diverse  of  the  said  inhabitants  there  to  my  servauntes, 
under  the  said  assurance,  offerring  theymselfs  with  any 
service  they  couthe  make ;  and  thus,  thanks  be  to 
Godde,  your  highnes’  subjects,  abowt  the  howre  of  xii 
of  the  clok  at  none  the  same  daye,  came  into  this, 
your  highnes  realme,  bringing  wt  theyme  above  xl 
Scottsmen  prisoners,  one  of  theyme  named  Scot,  of 
the  surname  and  kyn  of  the  said  Lord  of  Buclough, 
and  of  his  howsehold ;  they  brought  also  ccc  nowte, 
and  above  lx  horse  and  mares,  keping  in  savetie  frome 
losse  or  hurte  all  your  said  highnes  subjects.  There 
was  alsoo  a  towne,  called  Newbyggins,  by  diverse 
fotmen  of  Tyndaill  and  Ryddesdaill,  takyn  vp  of  the 
night,  and  spoyled,  when  was  slayne  ii  Scottsmen  of 
the  said  towne,  and  many  Scotts  there  hurte  ;  your 
highnes  subjects  was  xiii  myles  within  the  grounde  of 
Scotlande,  and  is  from  my  house  at  Werkworthe, 
above  lx  miles  of  the  most  evil  passage,  where  great 
snawes  doth  lye ;  heretofore  the  same  townes  now 
brynt  haith  not  at  any  tyme  in  the  mynd  of  man  in 
any  warrs  been  enterprised  unto  no  we ;  your  subjects 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


227 


were  thereto  more  encouraged  for  the  better  advance¬ 
ment  of  your  highnes  service,  the  said  Lord  of  Buc- 
lough  beyng  always  a  mortall  enemy  to  this  your 
Graces  realme,  and  he  dyd  say,  within  xiii  days  before 
he  woulde  see  who  durst  lie  near  hym  ;  wt  many  other 
eruell  words,  the  knowledge  whereof  was  certainly 
haid  to  my  said  servaunts,  before  theyre  enterprice 
maid  vpon  him;  most  humbly  beseeching  your  majesty, 
that  youre  highnes  thanks  may  concur  vnto  theyme 
whose  names  be  here  inclosed,,  and  to  have  in  your 
most  gracious  memory,  the  paynfull  and  diligent  ser¬ 
vice  of  my  pore  servaunte  Wharton,  and  thus,  as  I  am 
most  bounden,  shall  dispose  wt  them  that  be  under  me 
f  ...  .  annoysaunce  of  your  highnes  enemys.” 

In  resentment  of  this  foray,  Buccleuch,  with  other 
Border  chiefs,  assembled  an  army  of  3000  riders,  with 
which  they  penetrated  into  Northumberland,  and  laid 
waste  the  country  as  far  as  the  banks  of  Bramish. 
They  baffled,  or  defeated,  the  English  forces  opposed 
to*  them,  and  returned  loaded  with  prey. — -'Pinker- 
ton’s  History ,  vol.  ii.  p.  318. 


Note  D. 

Bards  long  shall  tell , 

How  Lord  Walter  fell. — P.  47. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  of  Buccleuch  succeeded  to  his- 
grandfather,  Sir  David,  in  1492.  He  was  a  brave  and 
powerful  baron,  and  Warden  of  the  West  Marches  of 
Scotland.*  His  death  was  the  consequence  of  a  feud 
betwixt  the  Scotts  and  Kerrs,  the  history  of  which  is 
necessary  to  explain  repeated  allusions  in  the  romance. 


228 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


In  the  year  1526,  in  the  words  of  Pitscottie,  “the 
Earl  of  Angus,  and  the  rest  of  the  Douglasses,  ruled 
all  which  they  liked,  and  no  man  durst  say  the  con¬ 
trary  ;  wherefore  the  King  (James  V.  then  a  minor) 
was  heavily  displeased,  and  would  fain  have  been  out 
of  their  hands,  if  he  might  by  any  way  :  And,  to  that 
effect,  wrote  a  quiet  and  secret  letter  with  his  own 
hand,  and  sent  it  to  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  beseech¬ 
ing  him  that  he  would  come  with  his  kin  and  friends, 
and  all  the  force  that  he  might  be,  and  meet  him  at 
Melross,  at  his  home-passing,  and  there  to  take  him 
out  of  the  Douglasses  hands,  and  to  put  him  to  liberty, 
to  use  himself  among  the  lave  (rest)  of  his  lords,  as  he 
thinks  expedient. 

“  This  letter  was  quietly  directed,  and  sent  by  one 
of  the  King’s  own  secret  servants,  which  was  received 
very  thankfully  by  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  who  was 
very  glad  thereof,  to  be  put  to  Such  charges  and  famil¬ 
iarity  with  his  prince,  and  did  great  diligence  to  per¬ 
form  the  King’s  writing,  and  to  bring  the  matter  to 
pass  as  the  King  desired  :  And,  to  that  effect,  convened 
all  his  kin  and  friends,  and  all  that  would  do  for  him, 
to  ride  with  him  to  Melross,  when  he  knew  of  the 
Kind’s  home-coming.  And  so  he  brought  with  him  six 
hundred  spears,  of  Liddesdale,  and  Annandale,  and 
countrymen,  and  clans  thereabout,  and  held  themselves 
quiet  while  that  the  King  returned  out  of  Jedburgh, 
and  came  to  Melross,  to  remain  there  all  that  night. 

“  But  when  the  Lord  Hume,  Cessfoord,  and  Ferny- 
herst,  (the  chiefs  of  the  clan  of  Kerr,)  took  their  leave 
of  the  King,  and  returned  home,  then  appeared  the 
Lord  of  Buccleuch  in  sight,  aftd  his  company  with  him, 
in  an  arrayed  battle,  intending  to  have  fulfilled  the 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


229 


King’s  petition,  and  therefore  came  stoutly  forward  on 
the  back  side  of  Haliden  hill.  By  that  the  Earl  of 
Angus,  with  George  Douglas,  his  brother,  and  sundry 
other  of  his  friends,  seeing  this  army  coming,  they 
marvelled  what  the  matter  meant ;  while  at  the  last 
they  knew  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  with  a  certain  com¬ 
pany  of  the  thieves  of  Annandale.  With  him  they 
were  less  alfeared,  and  made  them  manfully  to  the 
field  contrary  them,  and  said  to  the  King  in  this  man¬ 
ner,  ‘  Sir,  yon  is  Buccleuch,  and  thieves  of  Annandale 
with  him,  to  unbeset  your  Grace  from  the  gate,’  (i  e. 
interrupt  your  passage.)  ‘  I  vow  to  God  they  shall 
either  fight  or  flee  ;  and  ye  shall  tarry  here  on  this 
know,  and  my  brother  George  with  you,  with  any 
other  company  you  please  ;  and  I  shall  pass,  and  put 
yon  thieves  off  the  ground,  and  rid  the  gate  unto  your 
Grace,  or  else  die  for  it’  The  King  tarried  still,  as 
was  devised  ;  and  George  Douglas  with  him,  and  sun¬ 
dry  other  lords,  such  as  the  Earl  of  Lennox,  and  the 
Lord  Erskine,  and  some  of  the  King’s  own  servants ; 
but  all  the  lave  (rest)  past  with  the  Earl  of  Angus  to 
the  field  against  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  who  joyned 
and  countered  cruelly  both  the  said  parties  in  the  field 
of  Darnelinver,1  either  against  other,  with  uncertain 
victory.  But  at  the  last,  the  Lord  Hume,  hearing 
word  of  that  matter  how  it  stood,  returned  again  to  the 
King  in  all  possible  haste,  with  him  the  Lairds  of  Cess- 
foord  and  Fernyhirst,  to  the  number  of  fourscore 

1  Darnwick,  near  Melrose.  The  place  of  conflict  is  still 
called  Skiiiner’s  Field,  from  a  corruption  of  Skirmish  Field. 
[See  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border ,  vols.  i.  and  ii.,  for 
further  particulars  concerning  these  places,  of  all  which  the 
author  of  the  Lay  was  ultimately  proprietor. — Ed.] 


230 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


spears,  and  set  freshly  on  the  lap  and  wing  of  the 
Laird  of  Buccleuch’s  field,  and  shortly  bare  them  back 
ward  to  the  ground ;  which  caused  the  Laird  of  Bue- 
cleuch,  and  the  rest  of  his  friends,  to  go  back  and  flee, 
whom  they  followed  and  chased ;  and  especially  the 
Lairds  of  Cessfoord  and  Fernyhirst  followed  furiouslie, 
till  at  the  foot  of  a  path  the  Laird  of  Cessfoord  was 
slain  by  the  stroke  of  a  spear  by  an  Elliot,  who  was 
then  servant  to  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch.  But  when 
the  Laird  of  Cessfoord  was  slain,  the  chase  ceased.  The 
Earl  of  Angus  returned  again  with  great  merriness 
and  victory,  and  thanked  God  that  he  saved  him  from 
that  chance,  and  passed  with  the  King  to  Melross, 
where  they  remained  all  that  night.  On  the  morn 
they  past  to  Edinburgh  with  the  King,  who  was  very 
sad  and  dolorous  of  the  slaughter  of  the  Laird  of  Cess¬ 
foord,  and  many  other  gentlemen  and  yeomen  slain  by 
the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  containing  the  number  of  four¬ 
score  and  fifteen,  which  died  in  defence  of  the  King, 
and  at  the  command  of  his  writing.” 

I  am  not  the  first  who  has  attempted  to  celebrate  in 
verse  the  renown  of  this  ancient  baron,  and  his  hazard¬ 
ous  attempt  to  procure  his  sovereign’s  freedom.  In  a 
Scottish  Latin  poet  we  find  the  following  verses : — 

Valtekius  Scotus  Balcluciiius, 

Egregio  suscepto  facinore,  libertate  Regis,  ac  aliis  rebus  gestis 
clarus,  sub  Jacobo  V.  A°.  Christi,  1526. 

“  Intentata  aliis,  nullique  audita  priorum 
Audet,  nee  pavidum  morsve,  metusve  quatit, 

Libertatem  aliis  soliti  transcribere  Regis: 

Subreptam  banc  Regi  restituisse  paras; 

Si  vincis,  quanta  6  succedunt  praemia  dextrse ! 

Sm  victus,  falsas  spes  jace,  pone  animam. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


231 


Hostica  vis  nocuit:  stant  altse  robora  mentis 
Atque  decus.  Vincet,  Rege  probante,  tides. 

Insita  queis  animis  virtus,  quosque  acrior  ardor 
Obsidet,  obscuris  nox  premat  an  tenebris  V  ” 

Heroes  ex  omni  Historia  Scotica,  lectissimi,  Auctore  Johan. 
Jonstonio  Abre  donense  Scoto,  1603. 

In  consequence  of  the  battle  of  Melrose,  there  en¬ 
sued  a  deadly  feud  betwixt  the  names  of  Scott  and 
Kerr,  which,  in  spite  of  all  means  used  to  bring  about 
an  agreement,  raged  for  many  years  upon  the  Borders. 
Buccleuch  was  imprisoned,  and  his  estates  forfeited,  in 
the  year  1535,  for  levying  war  against  the  Kerrs,  and 
restored  by  act  of  Parliament,  dated  15th  March,  1542, 
during  the  regency  of  Mary  of  Lorraine.  But  the 
most  signal  act  of  violence,  to  which  this  quarrel  gave 
rise,  was  the  murder  of  Sir  Walter  himself,  who  was 
slain  by  the  Kerrs  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  in  1552. 
This  is  the  event  alluded  to  in  stanza  vii. ;  and  the 
poem  is  supposed  to  open  shortly  after  it  had  taken 
place. 

The  feud  between  these  two  families  was  not  recon¬ 
ciled  in  1596,  when  both  chieftains  paraded  the  streets 
of  Edinburgh  with  their  followers,  and  it  was  expected 
their  first  meeting  would  decide  their  quarrel.  But, 
on  July  14  of  the  same  year,  Colvil,  in  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Bacon,  informs  him,  “that  there  was  great  trouble 
upon  the  Borders,  which  would  continue  till  order 
should  be  taken  by  the  Queen  of  England  and  the 
King,  by  reason  of  the  two  young  Scots  chieftains, 
Cesford  and  Baclugh,  and  of  the  present  necessity 
and  scarcity  of  corn  amongst  the  Scots  Borderers  and 
riders.  That  there  had  been  a  private  quarrel  be¬ 
twixt  those  two  lairds  on  the  Borders,  which  was  like 


232 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


to  have  turned  to  blood ;  but  the  fear  of  the  general 
trouble  had  reconciled  them,  and  the  injuries  which 
they  thought  to  have  committed  against  each  other 
were  now  transferred  upon  England  ;  not  unlike  that 
emulation  in  France  between  the  Baron  de  Biron  and 
Mons.  Jevrie,  who,  being  both  ambitious  of  honour, 
undertook  more  hazardous  enterprises  against  the 
enemy,  than  they  would  have  done  if  they  had  been 
at  concord  together.” — Birch’s  Memorials ,  vol.  ii. 
p.  67. 

Note  E. 

Of  Betliunes  line  of  Picardie. — P.  51. 

The  Betliunes  were  of  French  origin,  and  derived 
their  name  from  a  small  town  in  Artois.  There  were 
several  distinguished  families  of  the  Betliunes  in  the 
neighbouring  province  of  Picardy ;  they  numbered 
among  their  descendants  the  celebrated  Due  de  Sully  ; 
and  the  name  was  accounted  among  the  most  noble  in 
France,  while  aught  noble  remained  in  that  country.1 
The  family  of  Bethune,  orBeatoun,  in  Fife,  produced 
three  learned  and  dignified  prelates  ;  namely,  Car¬ 
dinal  Beaton,  and  two  successive  Archbishops  of  Glas¬ 
gow,  all  of  whom  flourished  about  the  date  of  the 
romance.  Of  this  family  was  descended  Dame  Janet 
Beaton,  Lady.  Buccleuch,  widow  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
of  Branksome.  She  was  a  woman  of  masculine  spirit, 
as  appeared  from  her  riding  at  the  head  of  her  son’s 

1  This  expression  and  sentiment  were  dictated  by  the  situ¬ 
ation  of  France,  in  the  year  1803,  when  the  poem  was  orig¬ 
inally  written.  1821. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


233 


clan,  after  her  husband’s  murder.  She  also  possessed 
the  hereditary  abilities  of  her  family  in  such  a  degree, 
that  the  superstition  of  the  vulgar  imputed  them  to 
supernatural  knowledge.  With  this  was  mingled,  by 
faction,  the  foul  accusation  of  her  having  influenced 
Queen  Mary  to  the  murder  of  her  husband.  One  of 
the  placards,  preserved  in  Buchanan’s  Detection,  ac¬ 
cuses  of  Darnley’s  murder  “  the  Erie  of  Both  well, 
Mr.  James  Balfour,  the  persoun  of  Fliske,  Mr.  David 
Chalmers,  black  Mr.  John  Spens,  who  was  principal 
deviser  of  the  murder;  and  the  Quene,  assenting 
thairto,  throw  the  persuasion  of  the  Erie  Bothwell, 
and  the  witchcraft  of  Lady  Buckleuch” 

Note  F. 

The  vieioless  forms  of  air. — P.  52. 

The  Scottish  vulgar,  without  having  any  very  de¬ 
fined  notion  of  their  attributes,  believe  in  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  an  intermediate  class  of  spirits,  residing  in 
the  air,  or  in  the  waters  ;  to  whose  agency  they  ascribe 
floods,  storms,  and  all  such  phenomena  as  their  own 
philosophy  cannot  readily  explain.  They  are  sup¬ 
posed  to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  mortals,  sometimes 
with  a  malevolent  purpose,  and  sometimes  with  milder 
views.  It  is  said,  for  example,  that  a  gallant  baron, 
having  returned  from  the  Holy  Land  to  his  castle  of 
Drummelziar,  found  his  fair  lady  nursing  a  healthy 
child,  whose  birth  did  not  by  any  means  correspond 
to  the  date  of  his  departure.  Such  an  occurrence,  to 
the  credit  of  the  dames  of  the  Crusaders  be  it  spoken, 
was  so  rare,  that  it  recpiired  a  miraculous  solution. 


234 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


The  lady,  therefore,  was  believed,  when  she  averred 
confidently,  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Tweed  had  issued 
from  the  river  while  she  was  walking  upon  its  bank, 
and  compelled  her  to  submit  to  his  embraces :  and  the 
name  of  Tweedie  was  bestowed  upon  the  child,  who 
afterwards  became  Baron  of  Drummelziar,  and  chief 
of  a  powerful  clan.  To  those  spirits  were  also  as¬ 
cribed,  in  Scotland,  the 

— “  Airy  tongues,  that  syllable  men’s  names, 

On  sands,  and  shores,  and  desert  wildernesses.” 

When  the  workmen  were  engaged  in  erecting  the 
ancient  church  of  Old  Deer,  in  Aberdeenshire,  upon 
a  small  hill  called  Bissau,  they  were  surprised  to  find 
that  the  work  was  impeded  by  supernatural  obstacles. 
At  length,  the  Spirit  of  the  River  was  heard  to  say, 

“  It  is  not  here,  it  is  not  here, 

That  ye  shall  build  the  church  of  Deer ; 

But  on  Taptillery, 

Where  many  a  corpse  shall  lie.” 

The  site  of  the  edifice  was  accordingly  transferred  to 
Taptillery,  an  eminence  at  some  distance  from  the 
place  where  the  building  had  been  commenced. — 
Macfarlane’s  MSS.  I  mention  these  popular  fables, 
because  the  introduction  of  the  River  and  Moun¬ 
tain  Spirits  may  not,  at  first  sight,  seem  to  accord  with 
the  general  tone  of  the  romance,  and  the  superstitions 
of  the  country  where  the  scene  is  laid. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


235 


Note  G. 

A  fancied  moss-trooper ,  Sfc. — P.  55. 

This  was  the  usual  appellation  of  the  marauders 
upon  the  Borders ;  a  profession  diligently  pursued 
by  the  inhabitants  on  both  sides,  and  by  none  more 
actively  and  successfully  than  by  Buccleuch’s  clan. 
Long  after  the  union  of  the  crowns,  the  moss-troopers, 
although  sunk  in  reputation,  and  no  longer  enjoying 
the  pretext  of  national  hostility,  continued  to  pursue 
their  calling. 

Fuller  includes,  amoim  the  wonders  of  Cumber- 
land,  “  The  moss-troopers  ;  so  strange  in  the  condition 
of  their  living,  if  considered  in  their  Original ,  In¬ 
crease ,  Height ,  Decay ,  and  Ruine. 

“  1.  Original.  I  conceive  them  the  same  called 
Borderers  in  Mr.  Camden  ;  and  characterized  by  him 
to  be  a  wild  and  warlike  people.  They  are  called 
moss-troopers ,  because  dwelling  in  the  mosses,  and 
riding  in  troops  together.  They  dwell  in  the  bounds, 
or  meeting,  of  the  two  kingdoms,  but  obey  the  laws  of 
neither.  They  come  to  the  church  as  seldom  as  the 
29th  of  February  comes  into  the  calendar. 

“  2.  Increase.  When  England  and  Scotland  were 
united  in  Great  Britain,  they  that  ' formerly  lived  by 
hostile  incursions,  betook  themselves  to  the  robbing  of 
their  neighbours.  Their  sons  are  free  of  the  trade  by 
their  fathers’  copy.  They  are  like  to  Job,  not  in  piety 
and  patience,  but  in  sudden  plenty  and  poverty; 
sometimes  having  flocks  and  herds  in  the  morning, 
none  at  night,  and  perchance  many  again  next  day. 


236 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


They  may  give  for  their  motto,  vivitur  ex  rapto ,  steal¬ 
ing  from  their  honest  neighbours  what  they  sometimes 
require.  They  are  a  nest  of  hornets ;  strike  one,  and 
stir  all  of  them  about  your  ears.  Iydeed,  if  they 
promise  safely  to  conduct  a  traveller,  they  will  perform 
it  with  the  fidelity  of  a  Turkish  janizary ;  otherwise, 
woe  be  to  him  that  falleth  into  their  quarters  ! 

“  3.  Height.  Amounting,  forty  years  since,  to  some 
thousands.  These  compelled  the  vicinage  to  purchase 
their  security,  by  paying  a  constant  rent  to  them. 
When  in  their  greatest  height,  they  had  two  great 
enemies, — the  Laws  of  the  Land ,  and  the  Lord  William 
Howard  of  Naivorth.  He  sent  many  of  them  to  Car¬ 
lisle,  to  that  place  where  the  officer  doth  always  his 
work  by  daylight.  Yet  these  moss-troopers,  if  possibly 
they  could  procure  the  pardon  for  a  condemned  per¬ 
son  of  their  company,  would  advance  great  sums  out 
of*  their  common  stock,  who,  in  such  a  case,  cast 
in  their  lots  amongst  themselves ,  and  all  have  one  purse. 

“4.  Decay.  Caused  by  the  wisdom,  valour,  and 
diligence  of  the  Ri<dit  Honourable  Charles  Lord  How- 
ard,  Earl  of  Carlisle,  who  routed  these  English  Tories 
with  his  regiment.  His  severity  unto  them  will  not 
only  be  excused,  but  commended  by  the  judicious, 
who  consider  how  our  great  lawyer  doth  describe  such 
persons,  who  are  solemnly  outlawed.  Bracton,  lib. 
viii.  trac.  2.  cap.  11. — ‘  Ex  tunc  gerunt  caput  lupinum , 
ita  quod  sine  judiciali  inquisitione  rite  pereant ,  etsecum 
suum  judicium  portent ;  et  merito  sine  lege  pereunt ,  qui 
secundum  legem  vivero  recusdrunt.’ — ‘  Thenceforward 
(after  that  they  are  outlawed)  they  wear  a  wolf’s  head, 
so  that  they  lawfully  may  be  destroyed,  without  any 
judicial  inquisition,  as  who  carry  their  own  con- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


237 


demnation  about  them,  and  deservedly  die  without 
law,  because  they  refused  to  live  according  to  law.’ 

“  5.  Ruine.  Such  was  the  success  of  this  worthy 
lord’s  severity,  that  he  made  a  thorough  reformation 
among  them ;  and  the  ringleaders  being  destroyed 
the  rest  are  reduced  to  legal  obedience,  and  so,  I 
trust,  will  continue.” — Fuller’s  Worthies  of  England , 

p.  216. 

The  last  public  mention  of  moss-troopers  occurs 
during  the  civil  wars  of  the  17th  century,  when  many 
ordinances  of  Parliament  were  directed  against  them. 


Note  H. 

William  of  Deloraine. — P.  56. 

The  lands  of  Deloraine  are  joined  to  those  of  Buc- 

cleuch  in  Ettrick  Forest.  They  were  immemorially 

possessed  by  the  Buccleuch  family,  under  the  strong 

title  of  occupancy,  although  no  charter  was  obtained 

from  the  crown  until  1545.  Like  other  possessions, 

the  lands  of  Deloraine  were  occasionally  granted 

by  them  to  vassals,  or  kinsmen,  for  Border  service. 

Satchels  mentions,  among  the  twenty-four  gentlemen- 

pensioners  of  the  family,  “  William  Scott,  commonly 

called  Cut-at-the-Black ,  who  had  the  lands  of  Nether 

Deloraine,  for  his  service.”  And  again,  u  This  AYil- 

liam  of  Deloraine,  commonly  called  Cut-at-the-Black , 

was  a  brother  of  the  ancient  house  of  Haining,  which 

house  of  Haining  is  descended  from  the  ancient  house 

of  Hassendean.”  The  lands  of  Deloraine  now  give  an 

© 

earl’s  title  to  the  descendant  of  Henry,  the  second  sur- 


238 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


viving  son  of  the  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and  Mon¬ 
mouth.  I  have  endeavoured  to  give  William  of  Del- 
oraine  the  attributes  which  characterized  the  Border¬ 
ers  of  his  day ;  for  which  I  can  only  plead  Froissart’s 
apology,  that,  “  it  behoveth,  in  a  lynage,  some  to  be 
folyshe  and  outrageous,  to  maynteyne  and  sustayne 
the  peasable.”  As  a  contrast  to  my  Marchman,  I  beg 
leave  to  transcribe,  from  the  same  author,  the  speech 
of  Amergot  Marcell,  a  captain  of  the  Adventurous 
Companions,  a  robber,  and  a  pillager  of  the  country  of 
Auvergne,  who  had  been  bribed  to  sell  his.  strongholds, 
and  to  assume  a  more  honourable  military  life  under 
the  banners  of  the  Earl  of  Armagnac.  But  “  when 
he  remembered  alle  this,  he  was  sorrowful ;  his  tresour 
he  thought  he  wolde  not  mynysshe ;  he  was  wonte 
dayly  to  serche  for  newe  pyllages,  wherbye  encresed 
his  profyte,  and  then  he  sawe  that  alle  was  closed  fro’ 
hym.  Then  he  sayde  and  imagyned,  that  to  pyll  and 
to  robbe  (all  thynge  considered)  was  a  good  lyfe,  and 
so  repented  hym  of  his  good  doing.  On  a  tyme,  he 
said  to  his  old  conipanyons,  ‘  Sirs,  there  is  no  sporte 
nor  glory  in  this  worlde  amonge  men  of  warre,  but  to 
use  suche  lyfe  as  we  have  done  in  tyme  past.  What  a 
joy  was  it  to  us  when  we  rode  forth  at  adventure,  and 
somtyme  found  by  the  way  a  riche  priour  or  mer- 
chaunt,  or  a  route  of  mulettes  of  Mountpellyer,  of  Nar- 
bonne,  of  Lymens,  of  Fongans,  of  Besyers,  of  Tholous, 
or  of  Carcasonne,  laden  with  cloth  of  Brussels,  or  peltre 
ware  comynge  fro  the  fayres,  or  laden  with  spycery 
fro  Bruges,  fro  Damas,  or  fro  Alysaundre;  whatso¬ 
ever  we  met,  all  was  ours,  or  els  ransoumed  at  our 
pleasures ;  dayly  we  gate  new  money,  and  the  vyl- 
laynes  ol  Auvergne  and  of  Lymosyn  dayly  provvded 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


239 


and  brought  to  our  castell  whete  mele,  good  wynes, 
beffes,  and  fatte  mottons,  pullayne,  and  wylde  foule: 
We  were  ever  furnyshed  as  tho  we  had  been  kings. 
When  we  rode  forthe,  all  the  countrey  trymbled  for 
feare :  all  was  ours  goyng  and  comynge.  How  tok  we 
Carlast,  I  and  the  Bourge  of  Companye,  and  I  and 
Perot  of  Bernoys  took  Caluset ;  how  dyd  we  scale, 
with  ly tell  ayde,  the  strong  castell  of  Marquell,  per- 
tayning  to  the  Erl  Dolphyn :  I  kept  it  nat  past  fyve 
days,  but  I  receyved  for  it,  on  a  feyre  table,  fyve  thou- 
sande  frankes,  and  forgave  one  tliousande  for  the  love 
of  the  Erl  Dolphyn’s  children.  By  my  fayth,  this  was 
a  fayre  and  a  good  lyfe  !  wherefore  I  repute  myselfe 
sore  deceyved,  in  that  I  have  rendered  up  the  fortress 
of  Aloys ;  for  it  wolde  have  kept  fro  alle  the  worlde, 
and  the  daye  that  I  gave  it  up,  it  was  fournyshed  with 
vytaylles,  to  have  been  kept  seven  yere  without  any  re- 
vytayllinge.  This  Erl  of  Armynake  hath  deceyved 
me  :  Olyve  Barbe,  and  Perot  le  Bernoys,  shewed  to 
me  how  I  shulde  repente  myselfe  :  certayne  I  sore  re- 
pente  myselfe  of  what  I  have  done.’  ” — Froissart, 
vol.  ii.  p.  195. 


Note  I. 

By  icily  turns ,  by  desperate  bounds , 

Had  baffled  Percy's  best  bloodhounds.— P .  56. 

The  kings  and  heroes  of  Scotland,  as  well  as  the 
Border-riders,  were  sometimes  obliged  to  study  how 
to  evade  the  pursuit  of  bloodhounds.  Barbour  informs 
us,  that  Robert  Bruce  was  repeatedly  tracked  by  sleuth- 
do^s.  On  one  occasion,  he  escaped  by  wading  a  bow- 


240 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


shot  down  a  brook,  and  ascending  into  a  tree  by  a 
branch  which  overhung  the  water ;  thus,  leaving  no 
trace  on  land  of  his  footsteps,  he  baffled  the  scent.  The 
pursuers  came  up : — 

“  Rycht  to  the  burn  thai  passyt  ware, 

Bot  the  sleuth-hund  made  stinting  thar, 

And  waueryt  lang  tyme  ta  and  fra, 

That  he  na  certain  gate  couth  ga; 

Till  at  the  last  that  John  of  Lome 
Perseuvit  the  hund  the  sleuth  had  lorne.” 

The  Bruce ,  Book  vii. 

A  sure  way  of  stopping  the  dog  was  to  spill  blood 
upon  the  track,  which  destroyed  the  discriminating 
fineness  of  his  scent.  A  captive  was  sometimes  sacri¬ 
ficed  on  such  occasions.  Henry  the  Minstrel  tells  a 
romantic  story  of  Wallace,  founded  on  this  circum¬ 
stance  :  The  hero’s  little  band  had  been  joined  by  an 
Irishman,  named  Fawdoun,  or  Fadzean,  a  dark,  savage, 
and  suspicious  character.  After  a  sharp  skirmish  at 
Black-Erne  Side,  Wallace  was  forced  to  retreat  with 
only  sixteen  followers.  The  English  pursued  with  a 
Border  sleuth-bratch ,  or  bloodhound. 

“  In  Gelderland  there  was  that  bratchet  bred, 

Siker  of  scent,  to  follow  them  that  fled ; 

So  was  he  used  in  Eske  and  Liddesdail, 

While  (i.  e.  till)  she  gat  blood  no  fleeing  might  avail.” 

In  the  retreat,  Fawdoun,  tired,  or  affecting  to  be 
so,  would  go  no  farther.  Wallace,  having  in  vain 
argued  with  him,  in  hasty  anger,  struck  off  his  head, 
and  continued  the  retreat.  When  the  English  came 
up,  their  hound  stayed  upon  the  dead  body : — 

“  The  sleuth  stopped  kt  Fawdon,  still  she  stood, 

Nor  farther  would  fra  time  she  fund  the  blood.” 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


241 


The  story  concludes  with  a  fine  Gothic  scene  of  ter¬ 
ror.  Wallace  took  refuge  in  the  solitary  tower  of 
Gask.  Here  he  was  disturbed  at  midnight  by  the  blast 
of  a  horn.  He  sent  out  his  attendants  by  two  and  two, 
but  no  one  returned  with  tidings.  At  length,  when  he 
was  left  alone,  the  sound  was  heard  still  louder.  The 
champion  descended,  sword  in  hand ;  and,  at  the  gate 
of  the  tower,  was  encountered  by  the  headless  spectre 
of  Fawdoun,  whom  he  had  slain  so  rashly.  Wallace, 
in  great  terror,  fled  up  into  the  tower,  tore  open  the 
boards  of  a  window,  leapt  down  fifteen  feet  in  height, 
and  continued  his  flight  up  the  river.  Looking  back 
to  Gask,  he  discovered  the  tower  on  fire,  and  the  form 
of  Fawdoun  upon  the  battlements,  dilated  to  an  im¬ 
mense  size,  and  holding  in  his  hand  a  blazing  rafter 
The  Minstrel  concludes, 

“  Trust  ryght  wele,  that  all  this  be  sooth  indeed, 
Supposing  it  be  no  point  of  the  creed.” 

The  Wallace ,  Book  v. 

Mr.  Ellis  has  extracted  this  tale  as  a  sample  of 
Henry’s  poetry. — Specimens  of  English  Poetry ,  vol.  i. 
p.  351. 

Note  K. 

On  Minto-crags  the  moonbeams  glint. — P.  59. 

A  romantic  assemblage  of  clifls,  which  rise  suddenly 
above  the  vale  of  Teviot,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  family-seat,  from  which  Lord  Minto  takes  his  title. 
A  small  platform,  on  a  projecting  crag,  commanding  a 
most  beautiful  prospect,  is  termed  Barnhills’  Bed. 
This  Barnhills  is  said  to  have  been  a  robber,  or  outlaw. 

YOL.  I.  16 


242 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


There  are  remains  of  a  strong  tower  beneath  the 
rocks,  where  he  is  supposed  to  have  dwelt,  and  from 
which  he  derived  his  name.  On  the  summit  of  the 
crags  are  the  fragments  of  another  ancient  tower,  in  a 
picturesque  situation.  Among  the  houses  cast  down 
by  the  Earl  of  Hartforde,  in  1545,  occur  the  towers  of 
Easter  Barnhills,  and  of  Minto-crag,  with  Minto  town 
and  place.  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  father  to  the  present 
Lord  Minto,1  was  the  author  of  a  beautiful  pastoral 
song,  of  which  the  following  is  a  more  correct  copy 
than  is  usually  published.  The  poetical  mantle  of 
Sir  Gilbert  Elliot  has  descended  to  his  family. 

“  My  sheep  I  neglected,  I  broke  my  sheep-hook, 

And  all  the  gay  haunts  of  my  youth  I  forsook: 

No  more  for  Amynta  fresh  garlands  I  wove; 

Ambition,  I  said,  would  soon  cure  me  of  love. 

But  what  had  my  youth  with  ambition  to  do! 

Why  left  I  Amynta!  why  broke  1  my  vow  ! 

“  Through  regions  remote  in  vain  do  I  rove, 

And  bid  the  wide  world  secure  me  from  love. 

Ah,  fool,  to  imagine,  that  aught  could  subdue 

A  love  so  well  founded,  a  passion  so  true ! 

Ah,  give  me  my  sheep,  and  my  sheep-hook  restore! 

And  I’ll  wander  from  love  and  Amynta  no  more! 

“  Alas!  ’tis  too  late  at  thy  fate  to  repine! 

Poor  shepherd,  Amynta  no  more  can  be  thine ! 

Thy  tears  are  all  fruitless,  thy  wishes  are  vain, 

The  moments  neglected  return  not  again. 

Ah !  what  had  my  youth  with  ambition  to  do ! 

Why  left  I  Amynta!  why  broke  I  my  vow!  ” 

1  Grandfather  to  the  present  Earl.  1819. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


243 


Note  L. 

Ancient  Riddell's  fair  domain . — P.  60. 

The  family  of  Riddell  have  been  very  long  in  pos¬ 
session  of  the  barony  called  Riddell,  or  Ryedale,  part 
of  which  still  bears  the  latter  name.  Tradition  carries 
their  antiquity  to  a  point  extremely  remote ;  and  is,  in 
some  degree,  sanctioned  by  the  discovery  of  two  stone 
coffins,  one  containing  an  earthen  pot  filled  with  ashes 
and  arms,  bearing  a  legible  date,  A.  d.  727  ;  the  other 
dated  936,  and  filled  with  the  bones  of  a  man  of  gigan¬ 
tic  size.  These  coffins  were  discovered  in  the  founda¬ 
tions  of  what  was,  but  has  long  ceased  to  be,  the  chapel 
of  Riddell ;  and  as  it  was  argued,  with  plausibility,  that 
they  contained  the  remains  of  some  ancestors  of  the 
family,  they  were  deposited  in  the  modern  place  of 
sepulture,  comparatively  so  termed,  though  built  in 
1110.  But  the  following  curious  and  authentic  docu¬ 
ments  warrant  most  conclusively  the  epithet  of  u  ancient 
Riddell :  ”  1st,  A  charter  by  David  I.  to  Walter  Rydale, 
Sheriff  of  Roxburgh,  confirming  all  the  estates  of  Lilies- 
clive,  &c.,  of  which  his  father,  Gervasius  de  Rydale, 
died  possessed.  2dly,  A  bull  of  Pope  Adrian  IV.,  con¬ 
firming  the  will  of  Walter  de  Ridale,  knight,  in  f  avour  of 
his  brother  Anschittil  de  Ridale,  dated  8tli  April,  1155. 
3dly,  A  bull  of  Pope  Alexander  III.,  confirming  the 
said  will  of  Walter  de  Ridale,  bequeathing  to  his  brother 
Anschittil  the  lands  of  Liliesclive,  Whettunes,  &c.,  and 
ratifying  the  bargain  betwixt  Anschittil  and  lluctre- 
dus,  concerning  the  church  of  Liliesclive,  in  conse¬ 
quence  of  the  mediation  of  Malcolm  II,  and  confirmed 


244 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


by  a  charter  from  that  monarch.  This  bull  is  dated 
17th  June,  1160.  4thly,  A  bull  of  the  same  Pope,  con¬ 
firming  the  will  of  Sir  Anschittil  de  Ridale,  in  favour 
of  his  son  Walter,  conveying  the  said  lands  of  Lilies- 
clive  and  others,  dated  10th  March,  1120.  It  is  re¬ 
markable  that  Liliesclive,  otherwise  Rydale,  or  Riddell, 
and  the  Whittunes,  have  descended,  through  a  lone 
train  of  ancestors,  without  ever  passing  into  a  collateral 
line,  to  the  person  of  Sir  John  Buchanan  Riddell, 
Bart,  of  Riddell,  the  lineal  descendant  and  representa¬ 
tive  of  Sir  Anschittil. — These  circumstances  appeared 
worthy  of  notice  in  a  Border  work.1 


Note  M. 

So  had  he  seen ,  in  fair  Castile , 

The  youth  in  glittering  squadrons  start ; 

Sudden  the  flying  jennet  wheel , 

And  hurl  the  unexpected  dart. — P.  71. 

“  By  my  faith,’*  sayd  the  Duke  of  Lancaster,  (to  a 
Portuguese  squire,)  “  of  all  the  feates  of  armes  that  the 
Castellyans,  and  they  of  your  countrey  doth  use,  the 
castynge  of  their  dertes  best  pleaseth  me,  and  gladly 
I  wolde  se  it :  for,  as  I  hear  say,  if  they  strike  one 
aryghte,  without  he  be  well  armed,  the  dart  will  pierce 
him  thrughe.” — ■“  By  my  fayth,  sir,”  sayd  the  squyer, 
“  ye  say  trouth ;  for  I  have  seen  many  a  grete  stroke 
given  with  them,  which  at  one  time  cost  us  derely,  and 

1  f  Since  the  above  note  was  written,  the  ancient  family  of 
Riddell  have  parted  with  all  their  Scotch  estates. — Ed.J 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  245 

was  to  us  great  displeasure  ;  for,  at  the  said  skyrmishe, 
Sir  Jolm  Laurence  of  Coygne  was  striken  with  a  dart 
in  such  wise,  that  the  head  perced  all  the  plates  of  his 
cote  of  mayle,  and  a  sacke  stopped  with  sylke,  and 
passed  thrughe  his  body,  so  that  he  fell  down  dead.” 

. — Froissart,  vol.  ii.  ch.  44. — This  mode  of  fighting 
with  darts  was  imitated  in  the  military  game  called 
Jeugo  de  las  canas ,  which  the  Spaniards  borrowed 
from  their  Moorish  invaders.  A  Saracen  champion  is 
thus  described  by  Froissart :  “  Among  the  Sarazyns, 
there  was  a  yonge  knight  called  Agadinger  Dolyferne  ; 
he  was  always  wel  mounted  on  a  redy  and  a  lyght  horse ; 
it  seemed,  when  the  horse  ranne,  that  he  did  fly  in  the 
ayre.  The  knighte  seemed  to  be  a  good  man  of  armes 
by  his  dedes ;  he  bare  always  of  usage  three  fethered 
dartes,  and  ryclite  well  he  could  handle  them  ;  and, 
according  to  their  custome,  he  was  clene  armed,  with  a 
long  white  towell  about  his  head.  His  apparell  was 
blacke,  and  his  own  colour  browne,  and  a  good  horse¬ 
man.  The  Crysten  men  say,  they  thoughte  he  dyd 
such  deeds  of  armes  for  the  love  of  some  yonge  ladye 
of  his  countrey.  And  true  it  was,  that  he  loved  entirely 
the  King  of  Thune’s  daughter,  named  the  Lady  Azala , 
she  was  inherytour  to  the  realme  of  Thune,  after  the 
discease  of  the  kyng,  her  father.  This  Agadinger  was 
sone  to  the  Duke  of  Olyferne.  I  can  nat  telle  if  they 
were  married  together  after  or  nat  5  but  it  was  shewed 
me,  that  this  knyght,  for  love  of  the  sayd  ladye,  during 
the  siege,  did  many  feates  of  armes.  The  knyghtes  of 
France  wold  fayne  have  taken  hym ;  but  they  colde 
never  attrape  nor  inclose  him ;  his  horse  was  so  swyft, 
and  so  redy  to  his  hand,  that  alwaies  he  escaped.” — 
Vol.  ii.  ch.  71. 


246 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Note  N. 

- Dark  Knight  of  Liddes dale. — P.  73. 

William  Douglas,  called  the  Knight  of  Liddesdale 
flourished  during  the  reign  of  David  II.,  and  was  so 
distinguished  by  his  valour,  that  he  was  called  the 
Flower  of  Chivalry.  Nevertheless,  he  tarnished  his 
renown  by  the  cruel  murder  of  Sir  Alexander  Ramsay 
of  Dalhousie,  originally  his  friend  and  brother  in  anus. 
The  King  had  conferred  upon  Ramsay  the  sheriffdom 
of  Teviotdale,  to  whicli  Douglas  pretended  some  claim. 
In  revenge  of  this  preference,  the  Knight  of  Liddesdale 
came  down  upon  Ramsay,  while  he  was  administering 
justice  at  Hawick,  seized  and  carried  him  off  to  his 
remote  and  inaccessible  castle  of  Hermitage,  where  he 
threw  liis  unfortunate  prisoner,  horse  and  man,  into  a 
dungeon,  and  left  him  to  perish  of  hunger.  It  is  said, 
the  miserable  captive  prolonged  his  existence  for  several 
days  by  the  corn  which  fell  from  a  granary  above  the 
vault  in  which  he  was  confined.1  So  weak  was  the 

1  There  is  something  affecting  in  the  manner  in  which  the 
old  Prior  of  Lochleven  turns  from  describing  the  death  of  the 
gallant  Ramsay,  to  the  general  sorrow  which  it  excited: — 

“To  tell  you  there  of  the  manere, 

It  is  hot  sorrow  for  til  here ; 

He  was  the  grettast  menyd  man 
That  ony  cowth  have  thowcht  of  than, 

Of  his  state,  or  of  mare  be  fare; 

All  menvt  him,  bath  bettyr  and  war; 

The  ryclie  and  pure  him  menyde  bath, 

For  of  his  dede  was  mekil  skath.” 

Some  years  ago,  a  person  digging  for  stones,  about  the  old 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


247 


royal  authority,  that  David,  although  highly  incensed 
at  this  atrocious  murder,  found  himself  obliged  to  ap¬ 
point  the  Knight  of  Liddesdale  successor  to  his  victim, 
as  Sheriff  of  Teviotdale.  But  he  was  soon  after  slain, 
while  hunting  in  Ettrick  Forest,  by  his  own  godson  and 
chieftain,  William,  Earl  of  Douglas,  in  revenge,  accord¬ 
ing  to  some  authors,  of  Ramsay’s  murder ;  although  a 
popular  tradition,  preserved  in  a  ballad  quoted  by 
Godscroft,  and  some  parts  of  which  are  still  preserved, 
ascribes  the  resentment  of  the  Earl  to  jealousy.  The 
place  where  the  Knight  of  Liddesdale  was  killed,  is 
called,  from  his  name,  William- Cross,  upon  the  ridge 
of  a  hill  called  William-hope,  betwixt  Tweed  and  Yar¬ 
row.  Ilis  body,  according  to  Godscroft,  was  carried 
to  Lindean  church  the  first  night  after  his  death,  and 
thence  to  Melrose,  where  he  was  interred  with  great 
pomp,  and  where  his  tomb  is  still  shown. 


Note  O. 

- —  The  wondrous  Michael  Scott. — P.  75. 

Sir  Michael  Scott  of  Balwearie  flourished  during  the 
13th  century,  and  was  one  of  the  ambassadors  sent  to 
bring  the  Maid  of  Norway  to  Scotland  upon  the  death 

castle  of  Hermitage,  broke  into  a  vault,  containing  a  quantity 
of  chaff,  some  bones,  and  pieces  of  iron;  amongst  others,  the 
curb  of  an  ancient  bridle,  which  the  author  has  since  given 
to  the  Earl  of  Dalhousie,  under  the  impression  that  it  possibly 
may  be  a  relic  of  his  brave  ancestor.  The  worthy  clergyman 
of  the  parish  has  mentioned  this  discovery  in  his  Statistical 
Account  of  Castletown. 


248 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


of  Alexander  III.  By  a  poetical  anachronism,  he  is 
here  placed  in  a  later  era.  He  was  a  man  of  much 
learning,  chiefly  acquired  in  foreign  countries.  He 
wrote  a  commentary  upon  Aristotle,  printed  at  Venice 
in  1496  ;  and  several  treatises  upon  natural  philosophy, 
from  which  he  appears  to  have  been  addicted  to  the 
abstruse  studies  of  judicial  astrology,  alchymy,  phys¬ 
iognomy,  and  chiromancy.  Hence  he  passed  among 
his  contemporaries  for  a  skilful  magician.  Dempster 
informs  us,  that  he  remembers  to  have  heard  in  his 
youth,  that  the  magic  books  ot  Michael  Scott  were  still 
in  existence,  but  could  not  be  opened  without  danger, 
on  account  of  the  malignant  fiends  who  were  thereby 
invoked.  Dempsteri  Historia  Ecclesiastica,  1627,  lib. 
xii.  p.  495.  Lesly  characterizes  Michael  Scott  as 
“  singularie  philosophies,  astronomies ,  ac  medicines  laude 
prestans ;  dicehatur  penitissimos  magics  recessus  inda- 
gdsse.”  Dante  also  mentions  him  as  a  renowned  wiz¬ 
ard  : — 

“  Quell’  altro  che  ne’  fianchi  e  cost  poco, 

Michele  Scotto  fu,  che  veramente 

Delle  magiche  frode  seppe  il  giuoco.” 

Inferno ,  Canto  xxmo. 

A  personage,  thus  spoken  of  by  biographers  and 
historians,  loses  little  of  his  mystical  fame  in  vulgar 
tradition.  Accordingly,  the  memory  of  Sir  Michael 
Scott  survives  in  many  a  legend  :  and  in  the  south  of 
Scotland,  any  work  of  great  labour  and  antiquity,  is 
ascribed,  either  to  the  agency  of  Aulel  Michael ,  of  Sir 
William  Wallace,  or  of  the  devil.  Tradition  varies 
concerning  the  place  of  his  burial ;  some  contend  for 
Home  Coltrame,  in  Cumberland  ;  others  for  Melrose 
Abbey.  But  all  agree,  that  his  books  of  magic  were 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


249 


interred  in  his  grave,  or  preserved  in  the  convent 
where  he  died.  Satchells,  wishing  to  give  some  au¬ 
thority  for  his  account  of  the  origin  of  the  name  of 
Scott,  pretends,  that,  in  1629,  he  chanced  to  be  at 
Burgh  under  Bowness,  in  Cumberland,  where  a  person, 
named  Lancelot  Scott,  showed  him  an  extract  from 
Michael  Scott’s  works,  containing  that  story : — 

“  He  said  the  book  which  he  gave  me 
Was  of  Sir  Michael  Scott’s  historie; 

Which  history  was  never  yet  read  through, 

Nor  never  will,  for  no  man  dare  it  do. 

Young  scholars  have  pick’d  out  something 
From  the  contents,  that  dare  not  read  within. 

He  carried  me  along  the  castle  then, 

And  shew’d  his  written  book  hanging  on  an  iron  pin. 

His  writing  pen  did  seem  to  me  to  be 
Of  hardened  metal,  like  steel,  or  accumie; 

The  volume  of  it  did  seem  so  large  to  me, 

As  the  Book  of  Martyrs  and  Turks  historie. 

Then  in  the  church  he  let  me  see 
A  stone  where  Mr.  Michael  Scott  did  lie; 

I  asked  at  him  how  that  could  appear, 

Mr.  Michael  had  been  dead  above  five  hundred  year? 

He  shew’d  me  none  durst  bury  under  that  stone, 

More  than  he  had  been  dead  a  few  years  agone; 

For  Mr.  Michael’s  name  does  terrifie  each  one.” 

History  of  the  Right,  Honourable  Name  of  Scott. 


Note  P. 

Salamanca's  cave. — P.  75. 

Spain,  from  the  relics,  doubtless,  of  Arabian  learning 
and  superstition,  Avas  accounted  a  favourite  residence 
of  magicians.  Pope  Sylvester,  who  actually  imported 


250 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


from  Spain  the  use  of  the  Arabian  numerals,  was  sup¬ 
posed  to  have  learned  there  the  magic,  for  which  he 
was  stigmatized  by  the  ignorance  of  his  age. — W illiam 
of  Malmsbury ,  lib.  ii.  cap.  10.  There  were  public 
schools,  where  magic  or  rather  the  sciences  supposed 
to  involve  its  mysteries,  were  regularly  taught,  at  To¬ 
ledo,  Seville,  and  Salamanca.  In  the  latter  city,  they 
were  held  in  a  deep  cavern ;  the  mouth  of  which  was 
walled  up  by  Queen  Isabella,  wife  of  King  Ferdinand. 
— D’Auton  on  Learned  Incredulity ,  p.  45.  These 
Spanish  schools  of  magic  are  celebrated  also  by  the 
Italian  poets  of  romance  : — 

“  Questo  citta  di  Tolleto  solea 
Tenere  studio  di  negromanzta, 

Quivi  di  magica  arte  si  leggea 
Pubblicamente,  e  di  peromanzfa; 

E  molti  geomanti  sempre  avea, 

Esperimenti  assai  d’  idromanzta 
E  d’  altre  false  opinion’  di  sciocchi 
Come  e  fatture,  o  spesso  batter  gli  ocelli. ” 

11  Morgante  Maggiore,  Canto  xxv.  St.  259. 

The  celebrated  magician  Maugis,  cousin  to  Rinaldo 
of  Montalban,  called,  by  Ariosto,  Malagigi,  studied  the 
black  art  at  Toledo,  as  we  learn  from  L’Histoire  de 
Maugis  D’Aygremont.  He  even  held  a  professor’s 
chair  in  the  necromantic  university ;  for  so  I  interpret 
the  passage,  “  qu’on  tous  les  sept  ars  d’enchantement,  des 
charmes  et  conjurations ,  il  n’y  avoit  meillieur  maistre  que 
lui;  et  en  tel  renom  qu’on  le  laissoit  en  chaise,  et  Vappel- 
loit  on  maistre  Maugis.”  This  Salamancan  Domdaniel 
is  said  to  have  been  founded  by  Hercules.  If  the 
classic  reader  inquires  where  Hercules  himself  learned 
magic,  he  may  consult  “  Les  faicts  et  proesses  du  noble 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


251 


et  vaillant  Hercules ”  where  he  will  learn,  that  the  fable 
of  his  aiding  Atlas  to  support  the  heavens,  arose  from 
the  said  Atlas  having  taught  Hercules,  the  noble  knight- 
errant ,  the  seven  liberal  sciences,  and  in  particular 
that  of  judicial  astrology.  Such,  according  to  the  idea 
of  the  middle  ages,  were  the  studies,  “  muximus  quce 
docuit  Atlas.” — In  a  romantic  history  of  Hod  eric,  the 
last  Gothic  King  of  Spain,  he  is  said  to  have  entered 
one  of  those  enchanted  caverns.  It  was  situated  be¬ 
neath  an  ancient  tower  near  Toledo ;  and  when  the 
iron  o-ates,  which  secured  the  entrance,  were  unfolded, 
there  rushed  forth  so  dreadtul  a  whirlwind,  that  hitherto 
no  one  had  dared  to  penetrate  into  its  recesses.  But 
Roderic,  threatened  with  an  invasion  of  the  Moors, 
resolved  to  enter  the  cavern,  where  he  expected  to 
find  some  prophetic  intimation  of  the  event  ot  the  war. 
Accordingly,  his  train  being  furnished  with  torches,  so 
artificially  composed  that  the  tempest  could  not  extin¬ 
guish  them,  the  King,  with  great  difficulty,  penetrated 
into  a  square  hall,  inscribed  all  over  with  Arabian 
characters.  In  the  midst  stood  a  colossal  statue  of 
brass,  representing  a  Saracen  wielding  a  Moorish 
mace,  with  which  it  discharged  furious  blows  on  all 
sides,  and  seemed  thus  to  excite  the  tempest  which 
raged  around.  Being  conjured  by  Roderic,  it  ceased 
from  striking,  until  he  read,  inscribed  on  the  right 
hand,  “  Wretched  Monarch ,  for  thy  evil  hast  thou  come 
hither ;  ”  on  the  left  hand,  “  Thou  shalt  be  dispossessed 
by  a  strange  people;”  on  one  shoulder,  “  1  invoke  the 
sons  of  Hagar ;  ”  on  the  other,  “  I  do  mine  office.” 
When  the  King  had  deciphered  these  ominous  inscrip¬ 
tions,  the  statue  returned  to  its  exercise,  the  tempest 
commenced  anew,  and  Roderic  retired,  to  mourn  over 


252 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


the  predicted  evils  which  approached  his  throne.  He 
caused  the  gates  of  the  cavern  to  be  locked  and  barri¬ 
caded  ;  but,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  the  tower  fell  with 
a  tremendous  noise,  and  under  its  ruins  concealed  for 
ever  the  entrance  to  the  mystic  cavern.  The  conquest 
of  Spain  by  the  Saracens,  and  the  death  of  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  Don  Roderic,  fulfilled  the  prophecy  of  the 
brazen  statue.  Historia  verdadera  del  Rey  Don  Ro¬ 
drigo  por  el  sub  to  Alcayde  Abulcacim ,  traduzeda  de  la 
lengua  Arab ig a  por  Miquel  de  Luna ,  1654,  cap.  vi. 


Note  Q. 

The  bells  would  ring  in  Notre-Dame. — P.  75. 

“  Tantamne  rem  tarn  negligenter  ?”  says  Tyrwhitt, 
of  his  predecessor,  Speight ;  who,  in  his  commentary 
on  Chaucer,  had  omitted,  as  trivial  and  fabulous,  the 
story  of  Wade  and  his  boat  Guingelot,  to  the  great  pre¬ 
judice  of  posterity,  the  memory  of  the  hero  and  the 
boat  being  now  entirely  lost.  That  future  antiquaries 
may  lay  no  such  omission  to  my  charge,  I  have  noted 
one  or  two  of  the  most  current  traditions  concern¬ 
ing  Michael  Scott.  He  was  chosen,  it  is  said,  to  go 
upon  an  embassy,  to  obtain  from  the  King  of  France 
satisfaction  for  certain  piracies  committed  by  his  sub¬ 
jects  upon  those  of  Scotland.  Instead  of  preparing  a 
new  equipage  and  splendid  retinue,  the  ambassador 
retreated  to  his  study,  opened  his  book,  and  evoked  a 
fiend  in  the  shape  of  a  huge  black  horse,  mounted 
upon  his  back,  and  forced  him  to  fly  through  the  air 
towards  France.  As  they  crossed  the  sea,  the  devil 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


253 


insidiously  asked  liis  rider,  What  it  was  that  the  old 
women  of  Scotland  muttered  at  bedtime  ?  A  less  ex¬ 
perienced  wizard  might  have  answered  that  it  was  the 
Pater  Noster,  which  would  have  licensed  the  devil  to 
precipitate  him  from  his  back.  But  Michael  sternly 
replied,  “  What  is  that  to  thee? — Mount,  Diabolus,  and 
fly  !  ”  When  he  arrived  at  Paris,  he  tied  his  horse  to 
the  gate  of  the  palace,  entered,  and  boldly  delivered 
his  message.  An  ambassador,  with  so  little  of  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  diplomacy,  was  not  received 
with  much  respect,  and  the  King  was  about  to  return 
a  contemptuous  refusal  to  his  demand,  when  Michael 
besought  him  to  suspend  his  resolution  till  he  had  seen 
his  horse  stamp  three  times.  The  first  stamp  shook 
every  steeple  in  Paris,  and  caused  all  the  bells  to  ring  ;  * 
the  second  threw  down  three  of  the  towers  of  the 
palace  ;  and  the  infernal  steed  had  lifted  his  hoof  to 
give  the  third  stamp,  when  the  King  rather  chose  to  dis¬ 
miss  Michael,  with  the  most  ample  concessions,  than  to 
stand  to  the  probable  consequences.  Another  time,  it 
is  said,  that,  when  residing  at  the  Tower  of  Oakwood, 
upon  the  Ettrick,  about  three  miles  above  Selkirk,  he 
heard  of  the  fame  of  a  sorceress,  called  the  Witch  of 
Falseliope,  who  lived  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 
Michael  went  one  morning  to  put  her  skill  to  the  test, 
but  was  disappointed,  by  her  denying  positively  any 
knowledge  of  the  necromantic  art.  In  his  discourse 
with  her,  he  laid  his  wand  inadvertently  on  the  table, 
which  the  hag  observing,  suddenly  snatched  it  up,  and 
struck  him  with  it.  Feeling  the  force  of  the  charm,  he 
rushed  out  of  the  house  ;  but,  as  it  had  conferred  on 
him  the  external  appearance  of  a  hare,  his  servant,  who 
waited  without,  halloo’d  upon  the  discomfited  wizard 


254 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


liis  own  greyhounds,  and  pursued  him  so  close,  that  in 
order  to  obtain  a  moment’s  breathing  to  reverse  the 
charm,  Michael,  after  a  very  fatiguing  course,  was  fain 
to  take  refuge  in  his  own  jawhole ,  ( Anglice ,  common 
sewer.)  In  order  to  revenge  himself  of  the  witch  of 
Falsehope,  Michael,  one  morning  in  the  ensuing  harvest, 
went  to  the  hill  above  the  house  with  his  dogs,  and  sent 
down  his  servant  to  ask  a  bit  of  bread  from  the  good- 
wife  for  his  greyhounds,  with  instructions  what  to  do  if 
he  met  with  a  denial.  Accordingly,  when  the  witch 
had  refused  the  boon  with  contumely,  the  servant,  as 
his  master  had  directed,  laid  above  the  door  a  paper 
which  he  had  given  him,  containing,  amongst  many 
cabalistical  words,  the  well  known  rhvme, — 

“  Maister  Michael  Scott’s  man 

Sought  meat,  and  gat  nane.” 

Immediately  the  good  old  woman,  instead  of  pursu¬ 
ing  her  domestic  occupation,  which  was  baking  bread 
for  the  reapers,  began  to  dance  round  the  fire,  repeat¬ 
ing  the  rhyme,  and  continued  this  exercise  till  her  hus¬ 
band  sent  the  reapers  to  the  house,  one  after  another, 
to  see  what  had  delayed  their  provision  ;  but  the  charm 
caught  each  as  they  entered,  and  losing  all  idea  of 
returning,  they  joined  in  the  dance  and  chorus.  At 
length  the  old  man  himself  went  to  the  house  ;  but  as 
his  wife’s  frolic  with  Mr.  Michael,  whom  lie  had  seen 
on  the  hill,  made  him  a  little  cautious,  he  contented 
himself  with  looking  in  at  the  window,  and  saw  the 
reapers  at  their  involuntary  exercise,  dragging  his  wife, 
now  completely  exhausted,  sometimes  round,  and  some¬ 
times  through,  the  fire,  which  was,  as  usual,  in  the  midst 
of  the  house.  Instead  of  entering,  he  saddled  a  horse, 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


255 


and  rode  up  the  hill,  to  humble  himself  before  Michael, 
and  beg  a  cessation  of  the  spell ;  which  the  good-natured 
warlock  immediately  granted,  directing  him  to  enter 
the  house  backwards,  and,  with  his  left  hand,  take  the 
spell  from  above  the  door ;  which  accordingly  ended 
the  supernatural  dance. — This  tale  was  told  less  partic¬ 
ularly  in  former  editions,  and  I  have  been  censured  for 
inaccuracy  in  doing  so. — A  similar  charm  occurs  in 
Huon  de  Bourdeaux,  and  in  the  ingenious  Oriental 
tale,  called  the  Caliph  Vathek . 

Notwithstanding  his  victory  over  the  witch  of  False- 
hope,  Michael  Scott,  like  his  predecessor  Merlin,  fell 
at  last  a  victim  to  female  art.  His  wife,  or  concubine, 
elicited  from  him  the  secret,  that  his  art  could  ward  off 
any  danger  except  the  poisonous  qualities  of  broth,  • 
made  of  the  flesh  of  a  Ireme  sow.  Such  a  mess  she 
accordingly  administered  to  the  wizard,  who  died  in 
consequence  of  eating  it;  surviving,  however,  long 
enough  to  put  to  death  his  treacherous  confidant. 


Note  R. 

That  lamp  shall  burn  unquenchably , 

Until  the  eternal  doom  shall  he. — P.  77. 

Baptista  Porta,  and  other  authors  who  treat  of  natural 
magic,  talk  much  of  eternal  lamps,  pretended  to  have 
been  found  burning  in  ancient  sepulchres.  Fortunius 
Licetus  investigates  the  subject  in  a  treatise,  De  Lu~ 
cernis  Antiquorum  lleconditis,  published  at  Venice, 
1621.  One  of  these  perpetual  lamps  is  said  to  have 
been  discovered  in  the  tomb  of  Tulliola,  the  daimlrter 

1  O 


256 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


of  Cicero.  The  wick  was  supposed  to  be  composed  of 
asbestos.  Kircher  enumerates  three  different  recipes 
for  constructing  such  lamps ;  and  wisely  concludes, 
that  the  thing  is  nevertheless  impossible. — Mundus 
Subterraneus ,  p.  72.  Delrio  imputes  the  fabrication 
of  such  lights  to  magical  skill. — Disquisitiones  Magicce , 
p.  58.  In  a  very  rare  romance,  which  “  treateth  of 
the  life  of  Yirgilius,  and  of  his  deth,  and  many  mar- 
vayles  that  he  dyd  in  his  lyfe-time,  by  wychecrafte  and 
nygramancye,  throughe  the  helpe  of  the  devyls  of  hell,” 
mention  is  made  of  a  very  extraordinary  process,  in 
which  one  of  these  mystical  lamps  was  employed.  It 
seems  that  Virgil,  as  he  advanced  in  years,  became 
desirous  of  renovating  his  youth  by  magical  art.  For 
this  purpose  he  constructed  a  solitary  tower,  having 
only  one  narrow  portal,  in  which  he  placed  twenty- 
four  copper  figures,  armed  with  iron  flails,  twelve 
on  each  side  of  the  porch.  These  enchanted  statues 
struck  with  their  flails  incessantly,  and  rendered  all 
entrance  impossible,  unless  when  Virgil  touched  the 
spring,  which  stopped  their  motion.  To  this  tower  he 
repaired  privately,  attended  by  one  trusty  servant,  to 
whom  he  communicated  the  secret  of  the  entrance, 
and  hither  they  conveyed  all  the  magician’s  treasure. 
“  Then  sayde  Virgilius,  my  dere  beloved  frende,  and 
he  that  I  above  alle  men  truste  and  knowe  mooste  of 
my  secret ;  ”  and  then  he  led  the  man  into  a  cellar, 
where  he  made  a  fciyer  lamp  at  all  seasons  burnynge. 
“And  then  sayd  Virgilius  to  the  man,  4  Se  you  the 
barrel  that  standeth  here  ?  ’  and  he  sayd,  yea :  4  Therein 
must  thou  put  me  :  fyrst  ye  must  slee  me,  and  hewe 
me  smalle  to  pieces,  and  cut  my  hed  in  iiii  pieces, 
and  salte  the  heed  under  in  the  bottom,  and  then  the 


/ 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  257 

pieces  there  after,  and  my  herte  in  the  myddel,  and 
then  set  the  barrel  under  the  lampe,  that  nyghte  and 
day  the  fat  therein  may  droppe  and  leake  ;  and  ye 
shall  ix  dayes  long,  ones  in  the  day,  fyll  the  lampe, 
and  fayle  nat.  And  when  this  is  all  done,  then  shall  I  be 
renued,  and  made  yonge  agen.’  ”  At  this  extraordi¬ 
nary  proposal,  the  confidant  was  sore  abashed,  and 
made  some  scruple  of  obeying  his  master’s  commands. 
At  length,  however,  he  complied,  and  Virgil  was  slain, 
pickled,  and  barrelled  up,  in  all  respects  according  to 
his  own  direction.  The  servant  then  left  the  tower, 
taking  care  to  put  the  copper  thrashers  in  motion  at 
his  departure.  He  continued  daily  to  visit  the  tower 
with  the  same  precaution.  Meanwhile  the  emperor, 
with  whom  Virgil  was  a  great  favourite,  missed  him 
from  the  court,  and  demanded  of  his  servant  where  he 
was.  The  domestic  pretended  ignorance,  till  the  em¬ 
peror  threatened  him  with  death,  when  at  length  he 
conveyed  him  to  the  enchanted  tower.  The  same 
threat  extorted  a  discovery  of  the  mode  of  stopping  the 
statues  from  wielding  their  flails.  “And  then  the  em- 
perour  entered  into  the  castle  with  all  his  folke,  and 
sought  all  aboute  in  every  corner  after  Virgilius  ;  and 
at  the  laste  they  soughte  so  longe,  that  they  came  into 
the  seller,  where  they  sawe  the  lampe  hang  over  the 
barrell,  where  Virgilius  lay  in  deed.  Then  asked  the 
emperour  the  man,  who  had  made  hym  so  herdy  to  put 
his  mayster  Virgilius  so  to  dethe  ;  and  the  man  an¬ 
swered  no  worde  to  the  emperour.  And  then  the 
emperour,  with  great  anger,  drewe  out  his  sworde,  and 
slewe  he  there  Virgilius’  man.  And  when  all  this  was 
done,  then  sawe  the  emperour,  and  all  his  folke,  a  naked 
child  iii  tymes  rennynge  about  the  barrell,  saynge 
YOL.  I.  17 


258 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


these  wordes,  1  Cursed  be  the  tyme  that  ye  ever  came 
here.’  And  with  those  words  vanyshed  the  chylde 
awaye,  and  was  never  sene  agevn  ;  and  thus  abyd  Yir- 
gilius  in  the  barrell  deed.” — Virgilius ,  bl.  let.,  printed 
at  Antwerpe  by  John  Doesborcke.  This  curious  vol¬ 
ume  is  in  the  valuable  library  of  Mr.  Douce ;  and  is 
supposed  to  be  a  translation  from  the  French,  printed  in 
Flanders  for  the  English  market.  See  Goujet  Biblioth. 
Franc,  ix.  225.  Catalogue  de  la  Bibliotheque  Nation- 
ale ,  tom.  ii.  p.  5.  De  Bure ,  No.  3857. 


Note  S. 

The  Baron's  Dwarf  his  courser  held. — P.  85. 

The  idea  of  Lord  Cranstoun’s  Goblin  Page  is  taken 
from  a  being  called  Gilpin  Horner,  who  appeared,  and 
made  some  stay,  at  a  farm-house  among  the  Border- 
mountains.  A  gentleman  of  that  country  has  noted 
down  the  following  particulars  concerning  his  appear¬ 
ance  : — 

“  The  only  certain,  at  least  most  probable  account, 
that  ever  I  heard  of  Gilpin  Horner,  was  from  an  old 
man,  of  the  name  of  Anderson,  who  was  born,  and 
lived  all  his  life,  at  Todshaw-hill,  in  Eskedale-muir,  the 
place  where  Gilpin  appeared  and  stayed  tor  some  time. 
He  said  there  were  two  men,  late  in  the  evening,  when 
it  was  growing  dark,  employed  in  fastening  the  horses 
upon  the  uttermost  part  of  their  ground,  (that  is,  tying 
their  forefeet  together,  to  hinder  them  from  travelling 
far  in  the  night,)  when  they  heard  a  voice,  at  some 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


259 


distance,  crying,  1  Tint !  tint !  tint  !  ’ 1  One  of  the 
men,  named  Moffat,  called  out,- ‘What  deil  has  tint 
you  ?  Come  here.’  Immediately  a  creature,  of  some¬ 
thing  like  a  human  form,  appeared.  It  was  surpris¬ 
ingly  little,  distorted  in  features,  and  misshapen  in 
limbs.  As  soon  as  the  two  men  could  see  it  plainly, 
they  ran  home  in  a  great  fright,  imagining  they  had  met 
with  some  goblin.  By  the  way  Moffat  fell,  and  it  ran 
over  him,  and  was  home  at  the  house  as  soon  as  either 
of  them,  and  stayed  there  a  long  time  ;  but  I  cannot  say 
how  long.  It  was  real  flesh  and  blood,  and  ate  and 
drank,  was  fond  of  cream,  and,  when  it  could  get  at  it, 
would  destroy  a  great  deal.  It  seemed  a  mischievous 
creature  ;  and  any  of  the  children  whom  it  could  mas¬ 
ter,  it  would  beat  and  scratch  without  mercy.  It  was 
once  abusing  a  child  belonging  to  the  same  Moffat,  who 
had  been  so  frightened  by  its  first  appearance  ;  and  he, 
in  a  passion,  struck  it  so  violent  a  blow  upon  the  side 
of  the  head,  that  it  tumbled  upon  the  ground  ;  but  it 
was  not  stunned  ;  for  it  set  up  its  head  directly,  and 
exclaimed,  ‘  Ah  hah,  Will  o’  Moffat,  you  strike  sair !  ’ 
(viz.  sore.)  After  it  had  stayed  there  long,  one  evening, 
when  the  women  were  milking  the  cows  in  the  loan,  it 
was  playing  among  the  children  near  by  them,  when 
suddenly  they  heard  a  loud  shrill  voice  cry,  three  times, 

‘  Gilpin  Horner  !*  It  started,  and  said,  ‘  That  is  me,  1 
must  away*  and  instantly  disappeared,  and  was  never 
heard  of  more.  Old  Anderson  did  not  remember  it, 
but  said,  he  had  often  heard  his  father,  and  other  old 
men  in  the  place,  who  were  there  at  the  time,  speak 
about  it ;  and  in  my  younger  years  I  have  often  heard 


260 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


it  mentioned,  and  never  met  with  any  wlio  had  the 
remotest  doubt  as  to  the  truth  of  the  story  ;  although, 
I  must  own,  I  cannot  help  thinking  there  must  be  some 
misrepresentation  in  it.” — To  this  account,  I  have  to 
add  the  following  particulars  from  the  most  respectable 
authority.  Besides  constantly  repeating  the  word 
tint !  tint !  Gilpin  Horner  was  often  heard  to  call  upon 
Peter  Bertram,  or  Be-te-ram,  as  he  pronounced  the 
word ;  and  when  the  shrill  voice  called  Gilpin  Horner, 
he  immediately  acknowledged  it  was  the  summons  of 
the  said  Peter  Bertram  :  who  seems  therefore  to  have 
been  the  devil  who  had  tint,  or  lost,  the  little  imp.  As 
much  has  been  objected  to  Gilpin  Horner  on  account 
of  his  being  supposed  rather  a  device  of  the  author 
than  a  popular  superstition,  I  can  only  say,  that  no 
le°end  which  I  ever  heard  seemed  to  be  more  univer- 
sally  credited,  and  that  many  persons  of  very  good 
rank  and  considerable  information  are  well  known  to 
repose  absolute  faith  in  the  tradition. 


Note  T. 

But  the  Ladije  of  Branksome  gather'd  a  hand 

Of  the  best  that  would  ride  at  her  command. — P.  87. 

“Upon  25th  June,  1557,  Dame  Janet  Beatoune, 
Lady  Buccleuch,  and  a  great  number  of  the  name  of 
Scott,  delaitit  (accused)  for  coming  to  the  kirk  of  St. 
Mary  of  the  Lowes,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred 
persons  bodin  in  feire  of  weire  (arrayed  in  armour), 
and  breaking  open  the  door  of  the  said  kirk,  in  order 
to  apprehend  the  Laird  of  Cranstoune  for  his  de- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


261 


struction.”  On  the  20th  July,  a  warrant  from  the 
Queen  is  presented,  discharging  the  justice  to  proceed 
against  the  Lady  Buccleuch  while  new  calling. — 
Abridgement  of  Books  of  Adjournal,  in  Advocates’  Li¬ 
brary. — The  following  proceedings  upon  this  case  ap¬ 
pear  on  the  record  of  the  Court  of  Justiciary  :  On  the 
25th  of  June,  1557,  Robert  Scott,  in  Bowhill  parish, 
priest  of  the  kirk  of  St.  Mary’s,  accused  of  the  convo¬ 
cation  of  the  Queen’s  lieges,  to  the  number  of  200 
persons,  in  warlike  array,  with  jacks,  helmets,  and 
other  weapons,  and  marching  to  the  chapel  of  St.  Mary 
of  the  Lowes  for  the  slaughter  of  Sir  Peter  Cranstoun, 
out  of  ancient  feud  and  malice  prepense,  and  of  break¬ 
ing  the  doors  of  the  said  kirk,  is  repledged  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Glasgow.  The  bail  given  by  Robert 
Scott  of  Allanhaugh,  Adam  Scott  of  Burnfute,  Robert 
Scott  in  Howfurde,  Walter  Scott  in  Todshawhaugh, 
Walter  Scott  younger  of  Synton,  Thomas  Scott  of 
Hayning,  Robert  Scott,  William  Scott,  and  James 
Scott,  brothers  of  the  said  Walter  Scott,  Walter  Scott 
in  the  Woll,  and  Walter  Scott,  son  of  William  Scott 
of  Harden,  and  James  Wemyss  in  Eckford,  all  accused 
of  the  same  crime,  is  declared  to  be  forfeited.  On  the 
same  day,  Walter  Scott  of  Synton,  and  Walter  Chis- 
holme  of  Chisholme,  and  William  Scott  of  Haiden, 
became  bound,  jointly  and  severally,  that  Sir  Peter 
Cranstoun,  and  his  kindred  and  servants,  should  re¬ 
ceive  no  injury  from  them  in  future.  At  the  same 
time,  Patrick  Murray  of  Fallohill,  Alexander  Stuart, 
uncle  to  the  Laird  of  Trakwhare,  John  Murray  of 
Newhall,  John  Fairlye,  residing  in  Selkirk,  George 
Tait,  younger  of  Pirn,  John  Pennycuke  of  Pennycuke, 
James  Ramsay  of  Cokpen,  the  Laird  of  Fassyde,  and 


262 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


the  Laird  of  Henderstoune,  were  all  severally  fined  for 
not  attending  as  jurors ;  being  probably  either  in  alliance 
with  the  accused  parties,  or  dreading  their  vengeance. 
Upon  the  20th  of  July  following,  Scott  of  Synton, 
Chisholme  of  Chisholme,  Scott  of  Harden,  Scott  of 
Howpaslie,  Scott  of  Burnfute,  with  many  others,  are 
ordered  to  appear  at  next  calling,  under  the  pains  ot 
treason.  But  no  farther  procedure  seems  to  have  taken 
place.  It  is  said,  that,  upon  this  rising,  the  kirk  of  St. 
Mary  was  burnt  by  the  Scotts. 

Note  U. 

All  ivas  delusion ,  nought  was  truth. — P.  98. 

Glamour ,  in  the  legends  of  Scottish  superstition, 
means  the  magic  power  of  imposing  on  the  eyesight  of 
the  spectators,  so  that  the  appearance  of  an  object  shall 
be  totally  different  from  the  reality.  The  transforma¬ 
tion  of  Michael  Scott  by  the  witch  of  Falsehope, 
already  mentioned,  was  a  genuine  operation  of  cla¬ 
mour.  To  a  similar  charm  the  ballad  of  Johnny  Fa’ 
imputes  the  fascination  of  the  lovely  Countess,  who 
eloped  with  that  gypsy  leader : — 

“  Sae  soon  as  they  saw  her  weel-far’d  face, 

They  cast  the  glamour  o’er  her.” 

It  was  formerly  used  even  in  war.  In  1381,  when 
the  Duke  of  Anjou  lay  before  a  strong  castle,  upon  the 
coast  of  Naples,  a  necromancer  offered  to  “  make  the 
ayre  so  thycke,  that  they  within  shall  thynke  that  there 
is  a  great  bridge  on  the  see  (by  which  the  castle  was 
surrounded)  for  ten  men  to  go  a  front ;  and  whan  they 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


263 


within  the  castle  se  this  bridge,  they  will  be  so  a  fra}  de, 
that  they  shall  yelde  them  to  your  mercy.  The  Duke 
demanded, — 4  Fayre  Master,  on  this  bridge  that  ye 
speke  of,  may  our  people  assuredly  go  thereon  to  the 
castell  to  assayle  it  ?  ’ — 4  Syr,’  quod  the  enchantour, 

‘  I  dare  not  assure  you  that ;  for  if  any  that  passeth  on 
the  bridge  make  the  signe  of  the  crosse  on  hym,  all 
shall  go  to  noughte,  and  they  that  be  on  the  bridge 
shall  tall  into  the  see.’  Then  the  Duke  began  to 
laugh  i  and  a  certain  ot  young  knightes,  that  were  there 
present,  said,  4  Syr,  for  godsake,  let  the  mayster  assey 
his  cunning :  we  shal  leve  making  ot  any  signe  ot  the 
crosse  on  us  for  that  tyme.’”  The  Earl  ot  Savoy, 
shortly  after,  entered  the  tent,  and  recognized  in  the 
enchanter  the  same  person  who  had  put  the  castle  into 
the  power  of  Sir  Charles  de  la  Payx,  who  then  held  it, 
by  persuading  the  garrison  of  the  Queen  of  Naples, 
through  magical  deception,  that  the  sea  was  coming 
over  the  walls.  The  sage  avowed  the  feat,  and  added, 
that  he  was  the  man  in  the  world  most  dreaded  by  Sir 
Charles  de  la  Payx.  44  4  By  my  fayth,’  quod  the  Earl 
of  Savoy,  4  ye  say  well ;  and  I  will  that  Syr  Charles  de 
la  Payx  shall  know  that  he  hath  gret  wronge  to  fear 
you.  But  I  shall  assure  hym  of  you  ;  for  ye  shall  never 
do  enchantment  to  deceyve  hym,  nor  yet  none  other. 
1  wolde  nat  that  in  tyme  to  come  we  sliulde  be  re¬ 
proached  that  in  so  high  an  enterprise  as  we  be  in, 
wherein  there  be  so  many  noble  knyghtes  and  squyres 
assembled,  that  we  sliulde  do  any  tliyng  be  enchantment, 
nor  that  we  sliulde  wyn  our  enemys  be  suche  crafte.’ 
Then  he  called  to  him  a  servaunt,  and  said,  4  Go  and 
get  a  hangman,  and  let  him  stryke  ot  this  mayster’s 
heed  without  delay ;  ’  and  as  soone  as  the  Erie  had 


264 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


commanded  it,  incontinent  it  was  done,  for  his  heed 
was  stryken  of  before  the  Erie’s  tent.” — Froissart, 
vol.  i.  ch.  391,  392. 

The  art  of  glamour,  or  other  fascination,  was  an¬ 
ciently  a  principal  part  of  the  skill  of  the  jongleur ,  or 
juggler,  whose  tricks  formed  much  of  the  amusement 
of  a  Gothic  castle.  Some  instances  of  this  art  may  be 
found  in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border ,  vol.  iv. 
p.  106.  In  a  strange  allegorical  poem,  called  the  IIou- 
lat,  written  by  a  dependent  of  the  house  of  Douglas, 
about  1452-3,  the  jay,  in  an  assembly  of  birds,  plays 
the  part  of  the* juggler.  His  feats  of  glamour  are  thus 
described  : — 

“  He  gart  them  see,  as  it  semyt  in  samyn  houre, 
Hunting  at  herdis  in  lioltis  so  hair; 

Some  sailand  on  the  see  schippis  of  toure, 

Bernis  battalland  on  burd  brim  as  a  bare; 

He  coulde  carye  the  coup  of  the  kingis  des, 

Syne  leve  in  the  stede, 

Bot  a  black  bunwede; 

He  could  of  a  henis  liede 
Make  a  man  mes. 

“  He  gart  the  Emproure  trow,  and  trewlye  behald, 

That  the  corncraitc ,  the  pundare  at  hand, 

Had  poyndit  all  his  pris  hors  in  a  poynd  fald, 

Because  thai  ete  of  the  corn  in  the  kirkland. 

He  could  wirk  windaris,  quhat  way  that  he  wald, 

Mak  a  gray  gus  a  gold  garland, 

A  lang  spere  of  a  bittile,  for  a  berne  bald, 

Nobilis  of  nutschelles,  and  silver  of  sand. 

Thus  joukit  with  juxters  the  janglane  ja, 

Fair  ladyes  in  ringis, 
lvnychtis  in  caralyngis, 

Bavth  dansis  and  singis. 

It  semyt  as  sa.” 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


265 


Note  V. 

Now ,  if  you  ask  who  gave  the  stroke , 

1  cannot  tell ,  so  mot  1  thrive  ; 

//  was  given  by  man  alive. — P.  98. 

Dr.  Henry  More,  in  a  letter  prefixed  to  Glanville’s 
Saducismus  Triumphatus ,  mentions  a  similar  phenome¬ 
non. 

“  I  remember  an  old  gentleman  in  the  country,  of 
my  acquaintance,  an  excellent  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
a  piece  of  a  mathematician ;  but  what  kind  of  a  philoso¬ 
pher  he  was,  you  may  understand  from  a  rhyme  of  his 
own  making,  which  he  commended  to  me  at  my  taking 
horse  in  his  yard,  which  rhyme  is  this  : — 

4  Ens  is  nothing  till  sense  finds  out: 

Sense  ends  in  nothing,  so  naught  goes  about.’ 

Which  rhyme  of  his  was  so  rapturous  to  himself,  that, 
on  the  reciting  of  the  second  verse,  the  old  man  turned 
himself  about  upon  his  toe  as  nimbly  as  one  may 
observe  a  dry  leaf  whisked  round  the  corner  ot  an 
orchard-walk  bv  some  little  whirlwind.  With  this  phi- 
losopher  I  have  had  many  discourses  concerning  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  and  its  distinction  ;  when  I  have 
run  him  quite  down  by  reason,  he  would  but  laugh  at 
me,  and  say,  this  is  logic,  H.  (calling  me  by  my  Chris¬ 
tian  name  ;)  to  which  I  reply ed,  this  is  reason,  father 
L.  (for  so  I  used  and  some  others  to  call  him  ;)  but  it 
seems  you  arc  for  the  new  lights,  and  immediate  inspira¬ 
tion,  which  I  confess  he  was  as  little  for  as  for  the  other ; 
but  I  said  so  only  in  the  way  of  drollery  to  him  in 


266 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


those  times,  but  truth  is,  nothing  but  palpable  experi¬ 
ence  would  move  him ;  and  being  a  bold  man,  and 
fearing  nothing,  he  told  me  he  had  used  all  the  magi¬ 
cal  ceremonies  of  conjuration  he  could,  to  raise  the 
devil  or  a  spirit,  and  had  a  most  earnest  desire  to  meet 
with  one,  but  never  could  do  it.  But  this  he  told  me, 
when  he  did  not  so  much  as  think  of  it,  while  his  ser¬ 
vant  was  pulling  off  his  boots  in  the  hall,  some  invisi¬ 
ble  hand  gave  him  such  a  clap  upon  the  back,  that  it 
made  all  ring  again ;  4  so,’  thought  he  now,  4  I  am 
invited  to  the  converse  of  my  spirit,’  and  therefore,  so 
soon  as  his  boots  were  off,  and  his  shoes  on,  out  he 
goes  into  the  yard  and  next  field,  to  find  out  the 
spirit  that  had  given  him  this  familiar  clap  on  the  back, 
but  found  none  neither  in  the  yard  nor  field  next  to  it. 

44  But  though  he  did  not  feel  this  stroke,  albeit  he 
thought  it  afterwards  (finding  nothing  came  of  it)  a 
mere  delusion ;  yet,  not  long  before  his  death,  it  had 
more  force  with  him  than  all  the  philosophical  argu¬ 
ments  I  could  use  to  him,  though  I  could  wind  him 
and  nonplus  him  as  I  pleased ;  but  yet  all  my  argu¬ 
ments,  how  solid  soever,  made  no  impression  upon 
him  ;  wherefore,  after  several  reasonings  of  this  nature, 
whereby  I  would  prove  to  him  the  soul’s  distinction 
from  the  body,  and  its  immortality,  when  nothing  of 
such  subtile  consideration  did  any  more  execution  on 
his  mind  than  some  lightning  is  said  to  do,  though  it 
melts  the  sword,  on  the  fuzzy  consistency  of  the  scab¬ 
bard, — 4  Well,’  said  I,  4  father  L.,  though  none  of  these 
things  move  you,  I  have  something  still  behind,  and 
what  yourself  has  acknowledged  to  be  true,  that  may 
do  the  business :  Do  you  remember  the  clap  on 
your  back  when  your  servant  was  pulling  off  your 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


2G7 


boots  in  the  hall  ?  Assure  yourself,  says  I,  father  L., 
that  goblin  will  be  the  first  to  bid  you  welcome  into 
the  other  world.’  Upon  that  his  countenance  changed 
most  sensibly,  and  he  was  more  confounded  with  this 
rubbing  up  his  memory,  than  with  all  the  rational  or 
philosophical  argumentations  that  I  could  produce.” 


Note  W. 

But  she  has  ta’en  the  broken  lance , 

And  wash’d  it  from  the  clotted  gore, 

And  salved  the  splinter  o’er  and  o’er. — P.  107. 

Sir  Ivenelm  Digby,  in  a  discourse  upon  the  cure  by 
sympathy,  pronounced  at  Montpelier  before  an  assem¬ 
bly  of  nobles  and  learned  men,  translated  into  English 
by  R.  White,  gentleman,  and  published  in  1658,  gives 

us  the  following  curious  surgical  case  : — 

©  © 

“Mr.  James  Howel  (well  known  in  France  for  his 
public  works,  and  particularly  for  his  Dendrologie, 
translated  into  French  by  Mons.  Baudouin)  coming  by 
chance,  as  two  of  his  best  friends  were  fighting  in 
duel,  he  did  his  endeavor  to  part  them  ;  and,  putting 
himselfe  between  them,  seized,  with  his  left  hand,  upon 
the  hilt  of  the  sword  of  one  of  the  combatants,  while, 
with  his  right  hand,  he  laid  hold  of  the  blade  of  the 
other.  They,  being  transported  with  fury  one  against 
the  other,  struggled  to  rid  themselves  of  the  hindrance 
their  friend  made,  that  they  should  not  kill  one  another ; 
and  one  of  them  roughly  drawing  the  blade  of  his 

sword,  cuts  to  the  very  bone  the  nerves  and  muscles 

'  •> 

of  Mr.  Howell’s  hand  ;  and  then  the  other  disengaged 

‘  ©  © 


268 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


his  hilts,  and  gave  a  crosse  blow  on  his  adversaries 
head,  which  glanced  towards  his  friend,  who,  heaving 
up  his  sore  hand  to  save  the  blow,  he  was  wounded  on 
the  back  of  his  hand  as  he  had  been  before  within.  It 
seems  some  strange  constellation  reigned  then  against 
him,  that  he  should  lose  so  much  bloud  by  parting  two 
such  dear  friends,  who,  had  they  been  themselves, 
would  have  hazarded  both  their  lives  to  have  pre¬ 
served  his;  but  this  involuntary  effusion  of  bloud  by 
them,  prevented  that  which  they  sholde  have  drawn 
one  from  the  other.  For  they,  seeing  Mr.  Howel’s 
face  besmeared  with  bloud,  by  heaving  up  his  wounded 
hand,  they  both  ran  to  embrace  him;  and,  having 
searched  his  hurts,  they  bound  up  his  hand  with  one 
of  his  garters,  to  close  the  veins  which  were  cut,  and 
bled  abundantly.  They  brought  him  home,  and  sent 
for  a  surgeon.  But  this  being  heard  at  court,  the 
King  sent  one  of  his  own  surgeons ;  for  his  Majesty 
much  affected  the  said  Mr.  Howel. 

“  It  was  my  chance  to  be  lodged  hard  by  him ;  and 
four  or  fivp  days  after,  as  I  was  making  myself  ready, 
he  came  to  my  house,  and  prayed  me  to  view  his 
wounds ;  ‘  for  I  understand,’  said  he,  1  that  you  have 
extraordinary  remedies  on  such  occasions,  and  my 
surgeons  apprehend  some  fear  that  it  may  grow  to  a 
gangrene,  and  so  the  hand  mu§t  be  cut  off’  In  effect 
his  countenance  discovered  that  he  was  in  much  pain, 
which  he  said  was  insupportable,  in  regard  of  the  ex¬ 
treme  inflammation.  I  told  him  I  would  willingly 
serve  him ;  but  if  haply  he  knew  the  manner  how  I 
would  cure  him,  without  touching  or  seeing  him,  it 
may  be  he  would  not  expose  himself  to  my  manner  of 
curing,  because  he  would  think  it,  peradventure,  either 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


269 


ineffectual  or  superstitious.  He  replied,  ‘  the  wonder¬ 
ful  things  which  many  have  related  unto  me  of  your 
way  of  medicament,  makes  me  nothing  doubt  at  all  of 
its  efficacy  ;  and  all  that  I  have  to  say  unto  you  is  com¬ 
prehended  in  the  Spanish  proverb,  Hagase  el  rnilagro  y 
liagalo  Mahoma — Let  the  miracle  be  done,  though 
Mahomet  do  it.' 

“  I  asked  him  then  for  any  thing  that  had  the  blood 
upon  it  ;♦  so  he  presently  sent  for  his  garter,  wherewith 
his  hand  was  first  bound  ;  and  as  I  called  for  a  bason 
of  water,  as  if  I  would  wash  my  hands,  I  took  a  hand¬ 
ful  of  powder  of  vitriol,  which  I  had  in  my  study,  and 
presently  dissolved  it.  As  soon  as  the  bloudy  garter 
was  brought  me,  I  put  it  within  the  bason,  observing, 
in  the  interim,  what  Mr.  Howel  did,  who  stood  talking 
with  a  gentleman  in  a  corner  of  my  chamber,  not  re¬ 
garding  at  all  what  I  was  doing ;  but  he  started  sud¬ 
denly,  as  if  he  had  found  some  strange  alteration  in 
himself.  I  asked  him  what  he  ailed  ?  ‘  I  know  not 

what  ailes  me  ;  but  I  finde  that  I  feel  no  more  pain. 
Methinks  that  a  pleasing  kinde  of  freshnesse,  as  it  were 
a  wet  cold  napkin,  did  spread  over  my  hand,  which 
hath  taken  away  the  inflammation  that  tormented  me 
before.’  I  replied,  ‘  Since  then  that  you  feel  already 
so  good  effect  of  my  medicament,  I  advise  you  to  cast 
away  all  your  playsters ;  only  keep  the  wound  clean, 
and  in  a  moderate  temper  betwixt  heat  and  cold.’ 
This  was  presently  reported  to  the  Duke  of  Bucking¬ 
ham,  and  a  little  after  to  the  King,  who  were  both 
very  curious  to  know  the  circumstance  of  the  busi- 
nesse,  which  was,  that  after  dinner  I  took  the  garter 
out  of  the  water,  and  put  it  to  dry  before  a  great 
fire.  It  was  scarce  dry,  but  Mr.  Howel’s  servant  came 


270 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


running,  that  his  master  felt,  as  much  burning  as 
ever  he  had  done,  if  not  more  5  for  the  heat  was  such 
as  if  his  hand  were  ’twixt  coles  of  fire.  I  answered, 
although  that  had  happened  at  present,  yet  he  should 
find  ease  in  a  short  time ;  for  I  knew  the'  reason  of 
this  new  accident,  and  would  provide  accordingly ; 
for  his  master  should  be  free  from  that  inflammation,  it 
may  be  before  he  could  possibly  return  to  him ;  but  in 
case  he  found  no  ease,  I  wished  him  to  come  presently 
back  again  ;  if  not,  he  might  forbear  coming.  There¬ 
upon  he  went,  and  at  the  instant  I  did  put  again  the 
garter  into  the  water,  thereupon  he  found  his  master 
without  any  pain  at  all.  To  be  brief,  there  was  110  sense  v 
of  pain  afterward  ;  but  within  five  or  six  dayes  the 
wounds  were  cicatrized,  and  entirely  healed.” — Page  6. 

The  King  (James  VI.)  obtained  from  Sir  Kenelm 
the  discovery  of  his  secret,  which  he  pretended  had 
been  taught  him  by  a  Carmelite  friar,  who  had  learned 
it  in  Armenia,  or  Persia.  Let  not  the  age  of  animal 
magnetism  and  metallic  tractors  smile  at  the  sympa¬ 
thetic  powder  of  Sir  Kenelm  Digby.  Reginald  Scott 
mentions  the  same  mode  of  cure  in  these  terms  : — 

“  And  that  which  is  more  strange . they  can 

remedie  anie  stranger  with  that  verie  sword  wherewith 
they  are  wounded.  Yea,  and  that  which  is  beyond  all 
admiration,  if  they  stroke  the  sword  upward  with  their 
fingers,  the  partie  shall  feele  no  pain  ;  whereas,  if  they 
draw  their  fingers  downwards,  thereupon  the  partie 
wounded  shall  feele  intolerable  pain.”  I  presume  that 
the  success  ascribed  to  the  sympathetic  mode  of  treat¬ 
ment  might  arise  from  the  pains  bestowed  in  washing 
the  wound,  and  excluding  the  air,  thus  bringing  on  a 
cure  by  the  first  intention.  It  is  introduced  by  Dry- 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


271 


den  in  the  Enchanted  Island  a  (very  unnecessary) 
alteration  of  the  Tempest: — 

“ Ariel.  Anoint  the  sword  which  pierced  him  with  this 
Weapon-salve,  and  wrap  it  close  from  air, 

Till  I  have  time  to  visit  him  again. — Act  v.  sc.  2. 

Again,  in  scene  4th,  Miranda  enters  with  Hippolito’s 
sword  wrapt  up  : — 

“  Hip.  0  my  wound  pains  me ! 

Mir.  I  am  come  to  ease  you.  [She  unwraps  the  Sword. 

Ilip.  Alas,  I  feel  the  cold  air  come  to  me ; 

My  wound  shoots  worse  than  ever. 

Mir.  Does  it  still  grieve  you?  [She  icipes  and  anoints 

the  Sword. 

Hip.  Now,  methinks,  there’s  something  laid  just  upon  it. 

Mir.  Do  you  find  no  ease  ? 

Hip.  Yes,  yes;  upon  the  sudden  all  this  pain 
Is  leaving  me.  Sweet  heaven,  how  I  am  eased!” 


Note  X. 

Our  kin ,  and  clan ,  and  friends ,  to  raise. — P.  110. 

The  speed  with  which  the  Borderers  collected  great 
bodies  of  horse,  may  be  judged  of  fj’om  the  following 
extract,  when  the  subject  of  the  rising  was  much  less 
important  than  that  supposed  in  the  romance.  It  is 
taken  from  Carey’s  Memoirs  : — 

“  Upon  the  death  of  the  old  Lord  Scroop,  the  Queen 
gave  the  west  wardenry  to  his  son,  that  had  married 
my  sister.  lie  having  received  that  office,  came  to  me 
with  great  earnestness,  and  desired  me  to  be  his 
deputy,  offering  me  that  I  should  live  with  him  in  his 
house ;  that  he  would  allow  me  half  a  dozen  men,  and 


272 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


as  many  horses,  to  be  kept  at  his  charge ;  and  his  fee 
being  1000  merks  yearly,  he  would  part  it  with  me, 
and  I  should  have  the  half.  This,  his  noble  offer  I 
accepted  of,  and  went  with  him  to  Carlisle  ;  where  I 
was  no  sooner  come,  but  I  entered  into  my  office.  We 
had  a  stirring  time  of  it;  and  few  days  past  over 
my  head  but  I  was  on  horseback,  either  to  prevent 
mischief,  or  take  malefactors,  and  to  bring  the  Border 
in  better  quiet  than  it  had  been  in  times  past.  One 
memorable  thing  of  God’s  mercy  shewed  unto  me,  was 
such  as  I  have  good  cause  still  to  remember  it. 

“  I  had  private  intelligence  given  me,  that  there 
were  two  Scottishmen  that  had  killed  a  churchman  in 
Scotland,  and  were  by  one  of  the  Graemes  relieved. 
This  Graeme  dwelt  within  five  miles  of  Carlisle.  He 
had  a  pretty  house,  and  close  by  it  a  strong  tower,  for 
his  own  defence  in  time  of  need. — About  two  o’clock 
in  the  morning,  I  took  horse  in  Carlisle,  and  not  above 
twenty-five  in  my  company,  thinking  to  surprise  the 
house  on  a  sudden.  Before  1  could  surround  the 
house,  the  two  Scots  were  gotten  in  the  strong  tower, 
and  I  could  see  a  boy  riding  from  the  house  as  fast  as 
his  horse  could  carry  him ;  I  little  suspecting  what  it 
meant.  But  Thpmas  Carlton  came  to  me  presently, 
and  told  me,  that  if  I  did  not  presently  prevent  it, 
both  myself  and  all  my  company  would  be  either  slain 
or  taken  prisoners.  It  was  strange  to  me  to  hear  this 
language.  He  then  said  to  me,  ‘  Do  you  see  that  boy 
that  rideth  away  so  fast  ?  He  will  be  in  Scotland  within 
this  half  hour ;  and  he  is  gone  to  let  them  know,  that 
you  are  here,  and  to  what  end  you  are  come,  and  the 
small  number  you  have  with  you ;  and  that  if  they 
will  make  haste,  on  a  sudden  they  may  surprise  us, 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


273 


and  do  with  us  what  they  please/  Hereupon  we  took 
advice  what  was  best  to  be  done.  We  sent  notice 
presently  to  all  parts  to  raise  the  country,  and  to  come 
to  us  with  all  the  speed  they  could ;  and  withall  we 
sent  to  Carlisle  to  raise  the  townsmen  ;  for  without 
foot  we  could  do  no  good  against  the  tower.  There 
we  staid  some  hours,  expecting  more  company ;  and 
within  short  time  after  the  country  came  in  on  all 
sides,  so  that  we  were  quickly  between  three  and  four 
hundred  horse  ;  and,  after  some  longer  stay,  the  foot 
of  Carlisle  came  to  us,  to  the  number  of  three  or  four 
hundred  men  ;  whom  we  presently  set  to  work,  to  get 
to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  to  uncover  the  roof ;  and 
then  some  twenty  of  them  to  fall  down  together,  and 
by  that  means  to  win  the  tower. — The  Scots,  seeing 
their  present  danger,  offered  to  parley,  and  yielded 
themselves  to  my  mercy.  They  had  no  sooner  opened 
the  iron  gate,  and  yielded  themselves  my  prisoners,  but 
we  might  see  400  horse  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
coming  to  their  rescue,  and  to  surprise  me  and  my 
small  company ;  but  of  a  sudden  they  stayed,  arid  stood 
at  gaze.  Then  had  I  more  to  do  than  ever ;  for  all  our 
Borderers  came  crying,  with  full  mouths,  ‘  Sir,  give 
us  leave  to  set  upon  them  ;  for  these  are  they  that  have 
killed  our  fathers,  our  brothers  and  uncles,  and  our 
cousins ;  and  they  are  coming,  thinking  to  surprise  you, 
upon  weak  grass  nags,  such  as  they  could  get  on  a  sud¬ 
den  ;  and  God  hath  put  them  into  your  hands,  that  we 
may  take  revenge  of  them  for  much  blood  that  they 
have  spilt  of  ours.’  I  desired  they  would  be  patient 
a  while,  and  bethought  myself,  if  I  should  give  them 
their  will,  there  would  be  few  or  none  of  the  Scots 
that  would  escape  unkilled  ;  (there  was  so  many  deadly 
YOL.  I.  18 


274 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


feuds  among  them  ;)  and  therefore  I  resolved  with 
myself  to  give  them  a  fair  answer,  but  not  to  give  them 
their  desire.  So  I  told  them,  that  if  I  were  not  there 
myself,  they  might  then  do  what  they  pleased  them¬ 
selves  ;  but  being  present,  if  I  should  give  them  leave, 
the  blood  that  should  be  spilt  that  day  would  lie  very 
hard  upon  my  conscience.  And  therefore,  I  desired 
them,  for  my  sake,  to  forbear ;  and,  if  the  Scots  did 
not  presently  make  away  with  all  the  speed  they  could, 
upon  my  sending  to  them,  they  should  then  have  their 
wills  to  do  what  they  pleased.  They  were  ill  satisfied 
with  my  answer,  but  durst  not  disobey.  I  sent  with 
speed  to  the  Scots,  and  bade  them  pack  away  with 
all  the  speed  they  could ;  for,  if  they  stayed  the  mes¬ 
senger’s  return,  they  should  few  of  them  return  to 
their  own  home.  They  made  no  stay ;  but  they  were 
returned  homewards  before  the  messenger  had  made  an 
end  of  his  message.  Thus,  by  God’s  mercy,  I  escaped 
a  great  danger ;  and,  by  my  means,  there  were  a  great 
many  men’s  lives  saved  that  day.” 


Note  Y. 

Should  southern  ravage  was  begun. — P.  120. 

From  the  following  fragment  of  a  letter  from  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland  to  King  Henry  YHI.,  pre¬ 
served  among  the  Cotton  MSS.  Calig.  B.  vii.  179, 
the  reader  may  estimate  the  nature  of  the  dreadful 
war  which  was  occasionally  waged  upon  the  Borders, 
sharpened  by  mutual  cruelties,  and  the  personal  hatred 
of  the  wardens,  or  leaders. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


275 


Some  Scottish  Barons,  says  the  Earl,  had  threatened 
to  come  within  “  three  miles  of  my  pore  house  of 
Werkworth,  where  I  lye,  and  gif  me  light  to  put  on 
my  clothes  at  myd  night ;  and  alsoo  the  said  Marke  Carr 
said  there  opynly,  that,  seyng  they  had  a  governor  on 
the  Marches  of  Scotland,  as  well  as  they  had  in  Ing¬ 
land,  he  sliulde  kepe  your  highness  instructions,  gyffyn 
unto  your  garyson,  for  making  of  any  day-forrey ;  for 
he  and  his  friends  wolde  burne  enough  on  the  nyght, 
lettyng  your  counsaill  here  defyne  a  notable  acte  at 
theyre  pleasures.  Upon  wliiche,  in  your  highnes 
name,  I  comaundet  dewe  watche  to  be  kepte  on  your 
Marchies,  for  comyng  in  of  any  Scotts. — Neuertheles, 
upon  Thursday  at  night  last,  came  thyrty  light  horse¬ 
men  into  a  litil  village  of  myne,  called  Whitell,  having 
not  past  sex  houses,  lying  towards  Rvddisdaill,  upon 
Shilbotell  More,  and  there  wold  have  fyred  the  said 
howses,  but  ther  was  no  fyre  to  get  there,  and  they 
forgate  to  brynge  any  withe  theyme ;  and  took  a  wyf 
being  great  with  chylde,  in  the  said  towne,  and  said  to 
hyr,  Wher  we  can  not  gyve  the  lard  lyght,  yet  we 
shall  doo  this  in  spyte  of  hym  ;  and  gyve  her  iii  mortall 
wounds  upon  the  heid,  and  another  in  the  right  side, 
with  a  dagger :  whereupon  the  said  wyf  is  deede,  and 
the  childe  in  her  bely  is  loste.  Beseeching  your  most 
gracious  highness  to  reduce  unto  your  gracious  memory 
this  wylful  and  shamefull  murder,  done  within  this 
your  highnes  realme,  notwithstanding  all  the  inhabi¬ 
tants  thereabout  rose  unto  the  said  fray,  and  gave 
warnynge  by  becons  into  the  countrey  afore  theyme, 
and  yet  the  Scottsmen  dyde  escape.  And  uppon  cer- 
teyne  knowledge  to  my  brother  Clyfforthe  and  me, 
had  by  credible  persons  ot  Scotland,  this  abomynable 


276 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


act  not  only  to  be  done  by  dyverse  of  the  Mershe,  but 
also  the  afore  named  persons  of  Tyvidaill,  and  con¬ 
sented  to,  as  by  appearance,  by  the  Erie  of  Murey, 
upon  Friday  at  night  last,  let  slyp  C  of  the  best  horse¬ 
men  of  Glendaill,  with  a  parte  of  your  highnes  sub¬ 
jects  of  Berwyke,  together  with  George  Dowglas, 
wlioo  came  into  Ingland  agayne,  in  the  dawning  of  the 
day  ;  but  afore  theyre  retorne,  they  dyd  mar  the  Earl 
of  Murreis  provisions  at  Coldingham  ;  for  they  did  not 
only  burne  the  said  town  of  Coldingham,  with  all  the 
corne  thereunto  belonging,  which  is  esteemed  wurthe 
cii  marke  sterling ;  but  alsoo  burned  twa  townes  nye 
adjoining  thereunto,  called  Branerdergest  and  the 
Black  Hill,  and  toke  xxiii  persons,  lx  horse,  with  cc 
hed  of  cataill,  which,  nowe  as  I  am  informed,  hathe 
not  only  been  a  staye  of  the  said  Erie  of  Murreis  not 
coming  to  the  Bordure  as  yet,  but  alsoo,  that  none  in- 
lande  man  will  adventure  tlieyr  self  uppon  the  Marches. 
And  as  for  the  tax  that  sliulde  have  been  grauntyd  for 
finding  of  the  said  iii  hundred  men,  is  utterly  denyed. 
Upon  which  the  King  of  Scotland  departed  from  Edyn- 
burgh  to  Stirling,  and  as  yet  there  doth  remayn.  And 
also  I,  by  the  advice  of  my  brother  Clyfforth,  have  de- 
vysed,  that  within  this  iii  nyghts,  Godde  willing,  Kel¬ 
sey,  in  like  case,  shall  be  brent,  with  all  the  corn  in  the 
said  town ;  and  then  they  shall  have  noo  place  to  lye 
any  garyson  in  nygh  unto  the  Borders.  And  as  I 
shall  atteigne  further  knowledge,  I  shall  not  faill  to 
satisfye  your  highnes,  according  to  my  most  bounden 
dutie.  And  for  this  burnyng  of  Kelsey  is  devysed  to 
be  done  secretly,  by  Tyndaill  and  Ryddisdale.  And 
thus  the  holy  Trynite  and  *  *  *  your  most  royal  estate,  • 
with  long  lyf,  and  as  much  increase  of  honour  as  your 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


277 


most  noble  heart  can  desire.  At  Werkworth  the  xxiic? 
day  of  October”  (1522.) 


Note  Z. 

Belted  Will  Howard. — P.  123. 

Lord  William  Howard,  third  son  of  Thomas,  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  succeeded  to  Naworth  Castle,  and  a  large 
domain  annexed  to  it,  in  right  of  his  wife  Elizabeth, 
sister  of  George  Lord  Dacre,  who  died  without  lieirs- 
male,  in  the  11th  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  By  a  poetical 
anachronism,  he  is  introduced  into  the  romance  a  few 
years  earlier  than  he  actually  flourished.  He  was 
warden  of  the  Western  Marches;  and,  from  the  rigour 
with  which  he  repressed  the  Border  excesses,  the  name 
of  Belted  Will  Howard  is  still  famous  in  our  traditions. 
In  the  castle  of  Naworth,  his  apartments,  containing  a 
bedroom,  oratory,  and  library,  are  still  shewn.  They 
impress  us  with  an  unpleasing  idea  of  the  life  of  a 
lord  warden  of  the  Marches.  Three  or  four  strong 
doors,  separating  these  rooms  from  the  rest  of  the 
castle,  indicate  the  apprehensions  of  treachery  from 
his  garrison  ;  and  the  secret  winding  passages,  through 
which  he  could  privately  descend  into  the  guard-room, 
or  even  into  the  dungeons,  imply  the  necessity  of  no 
small  degree  of  secret  superintendence  on  the  part  of 
the  governor.  As  the  ancient  books  and  furniture 
have  remained  undisturbed,  the  venerable  appearance 
of  these  apartments,  and  the  armour  scattered  around 
the  chamber,  almost  lead  us  to  expect  the  arrival  of  the 
warden  in  person.  Naworth  Castle  is  situated  near 


278 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Brampton,  in  Cumberland.  Lord  William  Howard 
is  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Carlisle. 

Note  A  2. 

Lord  Dacre. — P.  123. 

The  well-known  name  of  Dacre  is  derived  from  the 
exploits  of  one  of  their  ancestors  at  the  siege  of  Acre, 
or  Ptolemais,  under  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion.  There 
were  two  powerful  branches  of  that  name.  The  first 
family,  called  Lord  Dacres  of  the  South,  held  the 
castle  of  the  same  name,  and  are  ancestors  to  the  pres¬ 
ent  Lord  Dacre.  The  other  family,  descended  from 
the  same  stock,  were  called  Lord  Dacres  of  the  North, 
and  were  barons  of  Gilsland  and  Gray  stock.  A 
chieftain  of  the  latter  branch  was  warden  of  the  West 
Marches  during  the  reign  of  Edward  YI.  He  was  a 
man  of  a  hot  and  obstinate  character,  as  appears  from 
some  particulars  of  Lord  Surrey’s  letter  to  Henry 
VIII.,  giving  an  account  of  his  behaviour  at  the  siege 
and  storm  of  Jedburgh.  It  is  printed  in  the  Min¬ 
strelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border ,  Appendix  to  the  Intro¬ 
duction. 


Note  B  2. 

The  German  hackbut-men. — P.  123. 

% 

In  the  wars  with  Scotland,  Henry  VIII.  and  his 
successors  employed  numerous  bands  of  mercenary 
troops.  At  the  battle  of  Pinky,  there  were  in  the 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


279 


English  army  six  hundred  backbutters  on  foot,  and 
two  hundred  on  horseback,  composed  chiefly  of  for¬ 
eigners.  On  the  27th  of  September,  1549,  the  Duke 
of  Somerset,  Lord  Protector,  writes  to  the  Lord  Dacre, 
warden  of  the  West  Marches:  “The  Almains,  in 
number  two  thousand,  very  valiant  soldiers,  shall  be 
sent  to  you  shortly  from  Newcastle,  together  with  Sir 
Thomas  Holcroft,  and  with  the  force  of  your  wardenry 
(which  we  would  were  advanced  to  the  most  strength 
of  horsemen  that  might  be),  shall  make  the  attempt  to 
Loughmaben,  being  of  no  such  strength  but  that  it 
may  be  skailed  with  ladders,  whereof,  beforehand,  we 
would  you  caused  secretly  some  number  to  be  pro¬ 
vided  ;  or  else  undermined  with  the  pyke-axe,  and  so 
taken :  either  to  be  kept  for  the  King’s  Majesty,  or 
otherwise  to  be  defaced,  and  taken  from  the  profits  of 
the  enemy.  And  in  like  manner  the  house  of  Car- 
laverock  to  be  used.”  Repeated  mention  occurs  of 
the  Almains,  in  the  subsequent  correspondence ;  and 
the  enterprise  seems  finally  to  have  been  abandoned, 
from  the  difficulty  of  providing  these  strangers  with 
the  necessary  “  victuals  and  carriages  in  so  poor  a 
country  as  Dumfries-shire.” — History  of  Cumberland , 
vol.  i.  Introd.  p.  lxi.  From  the  battle-pieces  of  the 
ancient  Flemish  painters,  we  learn  that  the  Low  Coun¬ 
try  and  German  soldiers  marched  to  an  assault  with 
their  right  knees  bared.  And  we  may  also  observe,  in 
such  pictures,  the  extravagance  to  which  they  carried 
the  fashion  of  ornamenting  their  dress  with  knots  of 
ribbon.  This  custom  of  the  Germans  is  alluded  to  in 
the  Mirrour  for  Magistrates ,  p.  121. 

“  Their  pleited  garments  therewith  well  accord, 

All  jagde  and  frounst,  with  divers  colours  deckt.” 


280 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Note  C  2. 

“  Ready ,  aye  ready  ,”  for  the  field. — P.  125. 

Sir  John  Scott  of  Thirlestane,  flourished  in  the 
reign  of  Janies  V.,  and  possessed  the  estates  of  Thir¬ 
lestane,  Gamescleuch,  &c.,  lying  upon  the  river  of 
Ettriek,  and  extending  to  St.  Mary’s  Loch,  at  the  head 
of  Yarrow.  It  appears,  that  when  James  had  assem¬ 
bled  his  nobility,  and  their  feudal  followers,  at  Fala, 
with  the  purpose  of  invading  England,  and  was,  as  is 
well  known,  disappointed  by  the  obstinate  refusal  of 
his  peers,  this  baron  alone  declared  himself  ready  to 
follow  the  King  wherever  he  should  lead.  In  memory 
of  his  fidelity,  James  granted  to  his  family  a  charter 
of  arms,  entitling  them  to  bear  a  border  of  fleurs-de- 
luce,  similar  to  the  tressure  in  the  royal  arms,  with  a 
bundle  of  spears  for  the  crest ;  motto,  Ready ,  aye 
ready.  The  charter  itself  is  printed  by  Nisbet ;  but 
his  work  being  scarce,  I  insert  the  following  accurate 
transcript  from  the  original,  in  the  possession  of  the 
Right  Honourable  Lord  Napier,  the  representative  of 
John  of  Thirlestaine. 

“James  Rex. 

“  We  James,  by  the  grace  of  God,  King  of  Scottis, 
considerand  the  ffaith  and  guid  servis  of  of  of 1  right 
traist  friend  John  Scott  of  Thirlestane,  quha  cum- 
mand  to  our  hoste  at  Soutra-edge,  with  three  score  and 
ten  launcieres  on  horseback  of  his  friends  and  follow¬ 
ers,  and  beand  willing  to  gang  with  ws  into  England 

1  Sic  in  orig. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


281 


when  all  our  nobles  and  others  refused,  he  was  ready 
to  stake  at  all  our  bidding ;  ffor  the  quhilk  cause,  it  is 
our  will,  and  we  doe  straitlie  command  and  charg  our 
lion  herauld  and  his  deputies  for  the  time  beand,  to 
give  and  to  graunt  to  the  said  John  Scott,  ane  Border 
of  ffieure  de  Uses  about  his  coatte  of  armes,  sik  as  is 
on  our  royal  banner,  and  alsua  ane  bundell  of  launces 
above  his  helmet,  with  thir  words,  Readdy,  ay  Readdy, 
that  he  and  all  his  aftercummers  may  bruik  the  samine 
as  a  pledge  and  taiken  of  our  guid  will  and  kyndnes 
for  his  true  worthines ;  and  thir  our  letters  seen,  ye 
nae  wayes  failzie  to  doe.  Given  at  Ffalla  Muire,  under 
our  hand  and  privy  cashet,  the  xxvii  day  of  July,  m  c 
and  xxxii  zeires.  By  the  King’s  graces  speciall  ordi¬ 
nance.  “Jo.  Arskine.” 

On  the  back  of  the  charter  is  written, 

“  Edin.  14  January,  1713.  Registred,  conform  to 
the  act  of  parliament  made  anent  probative  writs,  per 
M’Kaile,  pror.  and  produced  by  Alexander  Borthwick, 
servant  to  Sir  William  Scott  of  Thirlestane.  M.  L.  J.” 


Note  D  2. 

An  aged  Knight ,  to  danger  steel'd, 

With  many  a  moss-trooper ,  came  on ; 

A  nd  azure  in  a  golden  jield, 

The  stars  and  crescent  graced  his  shield , 
Without  the  bend  of  Murdieston — R.  125. 

The  family  of  Harden  are  descended  from  a  younger 
son  of  the  Laird  of  Buccleuch,  who  flourished  before 


282 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


the  estate  of  Murdieston  was  acquired  by  the  marriage 
of  one  of  those  chieftains  with  the  heiress,  in  1296 
Hence  they  bear  the  cognizance  of  the  Scotts  upon 
the  field  ;  whereas  those  of  the  Buccleuch  are  disposed 
upon  a  bend  dexter,  assumed  in  consequence  of  that 
marriage. — See  Gladstaine  of  Whitelawe’s  MSS. 
and  Scott  of  Stokoe’s  Pedigree ,  Newcastle,  1783. 

Walter  Scott  of  Harden,  who  flourished  during  the 
reign  of  Queen  Mary,  was  a  renowned  Border  free¬ 
booter,  concerning  whom  tradition  has  preserved  a 
variety  of  anecdotes,  some  of  which  have  been  pub¬ 
lished  in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border  ;  others 
in  Leyden’s  Scenes  of  Infancy ;  and  others,  more 
lately,  in  The  Mountain  Bard ,  a  collection  of  Border 
ballads  by  Mr.  James  Hogg.  The  bugle-horn,  said  to 
have  been  used  by  this  formidable  leader,  is  preserved 
by  his  descendant,  the  present  Mr.  Scott  of  Harden. 
His  castle  was  situated  upon  the  very  brink  of  a  dark 
and  precipitous  dell,  through  which  a  scanty  rivulet 
steals  to  meet  the  Bortliwick.  In  the  recess  of  this 
glen  he  is  said  to  have  kept  Ins  spoil,  which  served  for 
the  daily  maintenance  of  his  retainers,  until  the  pro¬ 
duction  of  a  pair  of  clean  spurs,  in  a  covered  dish,  an¬ 
nounced  to  the  hungry  band,  that  they  must  ride  for  a 
supply  of  provisions.  He  was  married  to  Mary  Scott, 
daughter  of  Philip  Scott  of  Dryhope,  and  called  in 
song  the  Flower  of  Yarrow.  He  possessed  a  very  ex¬ 
tensive  estate,  which  was  divided  among  his  five  sons. 
There  are  numerous  descendants  of  this  old  maraud¬ 
ing  Baron.  The  following  beautiful  passage  of  Ley¬ 
den’s  Scenes  of  Infancy ,  is  founded  on  a  tradition  re¬ 
specting  an  infant  captive,  whom  Walter  of  Harden 
carried  off  in  a  predatory  incursion,  and  who  is  said 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


283 


to  have  become  the  author  of  some  of  our  most  beau¬ 
tiful  pastoral  songs : — 

“  Where  Bortha  hoarse,  that  loads  the  meads  with  sand, 
Rolls  her  red  tide  to  Teviot’s  western  strand, 

Through  slaty  hills,  whose  sides  are  shagg’d  with  thorn, 
Where  springs,  in  scattered  tufts,  the  dark-green  corn, 
Towers  wood-girt  Harden,  far  above  the  vale, 

And  clouds  of  ravens  o’er  the  turrets  sail. 

A  hardy  race,  who  never  shrunk  from  war, 

The  Scott ,  to  rival  realms  a  mighty  bar, 

Here  fixed  his  mountain-home; — a  wide  domain, 

And  rich  the  soil,  had  purple  heath  been  grain; 

But  what  the  niggard  ground  of  wealth  denied, 

From  fields  more  bless’ d  his  fearless  arm  supplied. 

“  The  waning  harvest-moon  shone  cold  and  bright; 

The  warder’s  horn  was  heard  at  dead  of  night; 

And  as  the  massy  portals  wide  were  flung, 

With  stamping  hoofs  the  rocky  pavement  rung. 

What  fair,  half-veil’d,  leans  from  her  latticed  hall, 

Where  red  the  wavering  gleams  of  torchlight  fall? 

’Tis  Yarrow’s  fairest  Flower,  who,  through  the  gloom, 
Looks,  wistful,  for  her  lover’s  dancing  plume. 

Amid  the  piles  of  spoil,  that  strew’d  the  ground, 

Her  ear,  all  anxious,  caught  a  wailing  sound; 

With  trembling  haste  the  youthful  matron  flew, 

And  from  the  hurried  heaps  an  infant  drew. 

“  Scared  at  the  light,  his  little  hands  he  flung 
Around  her  neck,  and  to  her  bosom  clung; 

While  beauteous  Mary  soothed,  in  accents  mild, 

His  fluttering  soul,  and  clasp’d  her  foster  child. 

Of  milder  mood  the  gentle  captive  grew, 

Nor  loved  the  scenes  that  scared  his  infant  view; 

In  vales  remote,  from  camps  and  castles  far, 

He  shunn’d  the  fearful  shuddering  joy  of  war; 

Content  the  loves  of  simple  swains  to  sing, 

Or  wake  to  fame  the  harp’s  heroic  string. 


284 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


“  His  are  the  strains,  whose  wandering  echoes  thrill 
The  shepherd,  lingering  on  the  twilight  hill, 

When  evening  brings  the  merry  folding  hours, 

And  sun-eyed  daisies  close  their  winking  flowers. 

He  lived  o’er  Yarrow’s  Flower  to  shed  the  tear, 

To  strew  the  holly  leaves  o’er  Harden’s  bier: 

But  none  was  found  above  the  minstrel’s  tomb, 
Emblem  of  peace,  to  bid  the  daisy  bloom: 

He,  nameless  as  the  race  from  which  he  sprung 
Saved  other  names,  and  left  his  own  unsung.” 


Note  E  2. 

Knighthood  he  took  of  Douglas'  sword. — P.  140. 

The  dignity  of  knighthood,  according  to  the  orig¬ 
inal  institution,  had  this  peculiarity,  that  it  did  not  flow 
from  the  monarch,  but  could  be  conferred  by  one  who 
himself  possessed  it,  upon  any  squire  who,  after  due 
probation,  was  found  to  merit  the  honor  of  chivalry. 
Latterly,  this  power  was  confined  to  generals,  who 
were  wont  to  create  knights  bannerets  after  or  before 
an  engagement.  Even  so  late  as  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  Essex  highly  offended  his  jealous  sovereign 
by  the  indiscriminate  exertion  of  this  privilege.  Among 
others  he  knighted  the  witty  Sir  John  Harrington, 
whose  favour  at  court  was  by  no  means  enhanced  by 
his  new  honours. — See  the  Nugce  Antiquce ,  edited  by 
Mr.  Park.  But  probably  the  latest  instance  of  knight¬ 
hood,  conferred  by  a  subject,  was  in  the  case  of  Thomas 
Ker,  knighted  by  the  Earl  of  Huntley,  after  the  defeat 
of  the  Earl  of  Argyle  in  the  battle  of  Belrinnes.  The 
fact  is  attested,  both  by  a  poetical  and  prose  account 
of  the  engagement,  contained  in  an  ancient  MS.  in 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


285 


the  Advocates’  Library,  and  edited  by  Mr.  Dalyell,  in 
Godly  Sanys  and  Ballets ,  Edin.  1802. 


Note  F  2. 

Let  Musgrave  meet  fierce  Deloraine 

In  single  fight. - P.  144. 

It  may  easily  be  supposed,  that  trial  by  single  com¬ 
bat,  so  peculiar  to  the  feudal  system,  was  common  on 
the  Borders.  In  1558,  the  well-known  Kirkaldy  of 
Grange  fought  a  duel  with  Ralph  Evre,  brother  to  the 
then  Lord  Evre,  in  consequence  of  a  dispute  about  a 
prisoner  said  to  have  been  ill  treated  by  the  Lord 
Evre.  Pitscottie  gives  the  following  account  of  the 
affair “  The  Lord  of  Ivers,  his  brother,  provoked 
William  Kircaldy,  of  Grange,  to  fight  with  him,  in 
singular  combat,  on  horseback,  with  spears  ;  who,  keep¬ 
ing  the  appointment,  accompanied  with  Monsieur 
d’Ossel,  lieutenant  to  the  French  King,  and  the  garri¬ 
son  of  Havmouth,  and  Mr.  Ivers,  accompanied  with 
the  governor  and  garrison  of  Berwick,  it  was  dis¬ 
charged,  under  the  pain  of  treason,  that  any  man 
should  come  near  the  champions  within  a  flight-shot, 
except  one  man  for  either  of  them,  to  bear  their  spears, 
two  trumpets,  and  two  lords  to  be  judges.  W  hen  they 
were  in  readiness,  the  trumpets  sounded,  the  heraulds 
cried,  and  the  judges  let  them  go.  They  then  encoun¬ 
tered  very  fiercely;  but  Grange  struck  his  spear 
through  his  adversary’s  shoulder,  and  bare  him  off  his 
horse,  being  sore  wounded  :  But  whether  he  died,  or 
not,  it  is  uncertain.” — P.  202. 


286 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


The  following  indenture  will  shew  at  how  late  a 
period  the  trial  by  combat  was  resorted  to  on  the  Bor¬ 
der,  as  a  proof  of  guilt  or  innocence : — 

“  It  is  agreed  between  Thomas  Musgrave  and  Lan¬ 
celot  Carleton,  for  the  true  trial  of  such  controversies 
as  are  betwixt  them,  to  have  it  openly  tried  by  way  of 
combat,  before  God  and  the  face  of  the  world,  to  try  it 
in  Canonbyholme,  before  England  and  Scotland,  upon 
Thursday,  in  Easter-week,  being  the  eighth  day  of 
April  next  ensuing,  a.  d.  1602,  betwixt  nine  of  the 
clock,  and  one  of  the  same  day,  to  fight  on  foot,  to 
be  armed  with  jack,  steel  cap,  plaite  sleeves,  plaite 
breeches,  plaite  sockes,  two  basleard  swords,  the 
blades  to  be  one  yard  and  half  a  quarter  in  length, 
two  Scotch  daggers,  or  dorks,  at  their  girdles,  and 
either  of  them  to  provide  armour  and  weapons  for 
themselves,  according  to  this  indenture.  Two  gentle- 
men  to  be  appointed,  on  the  field,  to  view  both  the 
parties,  to  see  that  they  both  be  equal  in  arms  and 
weapons,  according  to  this  indenture ;  and  being  so 
viewed  by  the  gentlemen,  the  gentlemen  to  ride  to  the 
rest  of  the  company,  and  to  leave  them  but  two  boys, 
viewed  by  the  gentlemen,  to  be  under  sixteen  years 
of  age,  to  hold  their  horses.  In  testimony  of  this,  our 
agreement,  we  have  both  set  our  hands  to  this  inden¬ 
ture,  of  intent  all  matters  shall  be  made  so  plain,  as 
there  shall  be  no  question  to  stick  upon  that  day. 
Which  indenture,  as  a  witness,  shall  be  delivered  to 
two  gentlemen.  And  for  that  it  is  convenient  the 
world  should  be  privy  to  every  particular  of  the 
grounds  of  the  quarrel,  we  have  agreed  to  set  it  down 
in  this  indenture  betwixt  us,  that,  knowing  the  quarrel, 
their  eyes  may  be  witness  of  the  trial. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


287 


THE  GROUNDS  OF  THE  QUARREL. 

“  1.  Lancelot  Carleton  did  charge  Thomas  Mus- 
grave  before  the  Lords  of  her  Majesty’s  Privy  Council, 
that  Lancelot  Carleton  was  told  by  a  gentleman,  one 
of  her  Majesty’s  sworn  servants,  that  Thomas  Mus- 
grave  had  offered  to  deliver  her  Majesty’s  Castle  of 
Bewcastle  to  the  King  of  Scots ;  and  to  witness  the 
same,  Lancelot  Carleton  had  a  letter  under  the  gentle¬ 
man’s  own  hand  for  his  discharge. 

“  2.  He  chargeth  him,  that  whereas  her  Majesty  doth 
yearly  bestow  a  great  fee  upon  him,  as  captain  of 
Bewcastle,  to  aid  and  defend  her  Majesty’s  subjects 
therein  :  Thomas  Musgrave  hath  neglected  his  duty, 
for  that  her  Majesty’s  Castle  of  Bewcastle  was  by  him 
made  a  den  of  thieves,  and  a  harbour  and  receipt  for 
murderers,  felons,  and  all  sorts  of  misdemeanors.  The 
precedent  was  Quintin  Whitehead  and  Bunion  Black- 
burne. 

“  3.  He  chargeth  him,  that  his  office  of  Bewcastle  is 
open  for  the  Scotch  to  ride  in  and  through,  and  small 
resistance  made  by  him  to  the  contrary. 

“  Thomas  Musgrave  doth  deny  all  this  charge  ;  and 
saith,  that  he  will  prove  that  Lancelot  Carleton  doth 
falsely  bely  him,  and  will  prove  the  same  by  way  of 
combat,  according  to  this  indenture.  Lancelot  Carle¬ 
ton  hath  entertained  the  challenge  ;  and  so,  by  God’s 
permission,  will  prove  it  true  as  before,  and  hath  set  his 
hand  to  the  same. 

(Signed)  “  Thomas  Musgrave. 

“  Lancelot  Carleton.” 


288 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Note  G  2. 

He,  the  jovial  harper. — P.  146. 

The  person  here  alluded  to,  is  one  of  our  ancient 
Border  Minstrels,  called  Rattling  Roaring  Willie 

1  cD  ZD 

This  soubriquet  was  probably  derived  from  his  bully 
ing  disposition ;  being,  it  would  seem,  such  a  roaring 
boy,  as  is  frequently  mentioned  in  old  plays.  While 
drinking  at  Newmill,  upon  Teviot,  about  five  miles 
above  Hawick,  Willie  chanced  to  quarrel  with  one  of 
his  own  profession,  who  was  usually  distinguished  by 
the  odd  name  of  Sweet  Milk,  from  a  place  on  Rule 
Water,  so  called.  They  retired  to  a  meadow  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Teviot,  to  decide  the  contest  with 
their  swords,  and  Sweet  Milk  was  killed  on  the  spot. 
A  thorn-tree  marks  the  scene  of  the  murder,  which  is 
still  called  Sweet  Milk  Thorn.  Willie  was  taken  and 
executed  at  Jedburgh,  bequeathing  his  name  to  the 
beautiful  Scotch  air,  called  “  Rattling  Roaring  Willie.’’ 
Ramsay,  who  set  no  value  on  traditionary  lore  pub¬ 
lished  a  few  verses  of  this  song  in  the  Tea-table  Mis- 
cellany ,  carefully  suppressing  all  which  had  any  con¬ 
nexion  with  the  history  of  the  author  and  origin  of 
the  piece.  In  this  case,  however,  honest  Allan  is  in 
some  degree  justified,  by  the  extreme  worthlessness  of 
the  poetry.  A  verse  or  two  may  be  taken,  as  illustra¬ 
tive  of  the  history  of  Roaring  Willie,  alluded  to  in  the 
text : — 

“Now  Willie’s  gane  to  Jeddart, 

And  he’s  for  the  rood-day ;  1 

1  The  day  of  the  Rood-fair  at  Jedburgh. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


289 


But  Stobs  and  young  Falnash2 
They  follow’d  him  a’  the  way; 

They  follow’d  him  a’  the  way, 

They  sought  him  up  and  down, 

In  the  links  of  Ousenam  water 
They  fand  him  sleeping  sound. 

“  Stobs  light  aff  his  horse, 

And  never  a  word  he  spak, 

Till  he  tied  Willie’s  hands 
Fu’  fast  behind  his  back; 

Fu’  fast  behind  his  back, 

And  down  beneath  his  knee, 

And  drink  will  be  dear  to  Willie, 

When  sweet  milk  3  gars  him  die. 

“  Ah  wae  light  on  ye,  Stobs ! 

An  ill  death  mot  ye  die: 

Ye’re  the  first  and  foremost  man 
That  e’er  laid  hands  on  me; 

That  e’er  laid  hands  on  me, 

And  took  my  mare  me  frae : 

Wae  to  you,  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot! 

Ye  are  my  mortal  fae! 

“  The  lasses  of  Ousenam  water 
Are  rugging  and  riving  their  hair, 

And  a’  for  the  sake  of  Willie, 

His  beauty  was  so  fair:  , 

His  beauty  was  so  fair, 

And  comely  for  to  see, 

And  drink  will  be  dear  to  Willie, 

When  sweet  milk  gars  him  die.” 

2  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot  of  Stobs,  and  Scott  of  Falnash. 

3  A  wretched  pun  on  his  antagonist’s  name. 


YOL.  I. 


19 


290 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


Note  H  2. 

She  wrought  not  by  forbidden  spell. — P.  184. 

Popular  belief,  though  contrary  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  made  a  favourable  distinction  betwixt 
magicians  and  necromancers,  or  wizards  ;  the  former 
were  supposed  to  command  the  evil  spirits,  and  the  latter 
to  serve,  or  at  least  to  be  in  league  and  compact  with, 
those  enemies  of  mankind.  The  arts  of  subjecting  the 
demons  were  manifold  ;  sometimes  the  fiends  were  ac¬ 
tually  swindled  by  the  magicians,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
bargain  betwixt  one  of  their  number  and  the  poet 
Virgil.  The  classical  reader  will  doubtless  be  curious 
to  peruse  this  anecdote  : — 

“  Virgilius  was  at  scole  at  Tolenton,  where  he  stod- 
yed  dylygently,  for  he  was  of  great  understandynge. 
Upon  a  tyme,  the  scolers  had  lycense  to  go  to  play 
and  sporte  them  in  the  fyldes,  after  the  usance  of  the 
old  tyme.  And  there  was  also  Virgilius  tlierbye,  also 
walkynge  among  the  hylles  alle  about.  It  fortuned  he 
spyed  a  great  hole  in  the  syde  of  a  great  hyll,  wherein  he 
went  so  depe,  that  he  culd  not  see  no  more  lyght :  and 
than  he  went  a  lytell  farther  therein,  and  than  he  saw 
some  lyght  agayne,  and  than  he  went  fourth  streyghte, 
and  within  a  lytell  wyle  after  he  harde  a  voyce  that 
called,  ‘  Virgilius !  Virgilius  !  ’  and  looked  aboute,  and 
he  colde  nat  see  no  body.  Then  sayd  he,  (i.  e.  the 
voiced)  ‘  Virgilius,  see  ye  not  the  lytyll  horde  lying 
bysyde  you  there  marked  with  that  word  ?  ’  Than 
answered  Virgilius,  ‘  I  see  that  borde  well  anough.’ 
The  voyce  said,  ‘  Doo  awaye  that  borde,  and  lette  me 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


291 


out  there  atte.’  Than  answered  Virgilius  to  the  voice 
that  was  under  the  lytell  horde,  and  sayd,  ‘  Who  art 
thou  that  callest  me  so  ?  ’  Than  answered  the  devyll, 
‘lama  devyll  conjured  out  of  the  bodye  of  a  certeyne 
man,  and  banysshed  here  tyll  the  day  of  judgmend, 
without  that  I  be  delyvered  by  the  handes  of  men. 
Thus,  Yirgilius,  I  pray  the,  delyver  me  out  of  this 
payn,  and  I  shall  she  we  unto  the  many  bokes  of  negro- 
mancye,  and  how  thou  shalt  come  by  it  lyghtly,  and 
know  the  practyse  therein,  that  no  man  in  the  scyence 
of  negromancye  shall  passe  the.  And  moreover,  I 
shall  sliewe  and  enforme  the  so,  that  thou  shalt  have 
alle  thy  desyre,  whereby  methinke  it  is  a  great  gyfte 
for  so  lytyll  a  doyng.  For  ye  may  also  thus  all  your 
power  frendys  helpe,  and  make  ryche  your  enemyes.’ 
Thorough  that  great  promyse  was  Virgilius  tempted ; 
he  badde  the  fynd  show  the  bokes  to  hym,  that  he 
might  have  and  occupy  them  at  his  wyll ;  and  so  the 
fynde  shewed  him.  And  than  Yirgilius  pulled  open  a 
horde,  and  there  was  a  lytell  hole,  and  thereat  wrang 
the  devyll  out  like  a  yell,  and  cam  and  stode  before 
Yirgilius  lyke  a  bygge  man  ;  whereof  Virgilius  was 
astonied  and  marveyled  greatly  thereof,  that  so  great  a 
man  myght  come  out  at  so  lytyll  a  hole.  Than  sayd 
Yirgilius,  ‘  Shulde  ye  well  passe  into  the  hole  that  ye 
cam  out  of?’ — ‘  Yea,  I  shall  well,’  said  the  devyl. — ‘  I 
holde  the  best  plegge  that  I  have,  that  ye  shall  not  do 
it.’ — ‘Well,’  sayd  the  devyll,  ‘thereto  I  consent.’ 
And  than  the  devyll  wrange  liimselfe  into  the  lytyll 
hole  ageyne  ;  and  as  he  was  therein,  Yirgilius  kyvered 
the  hole  ageyne  with  the  borde  close,  and  so  was  the 
devyll  begyled,  and  myght  nat  there  come  out  agen, 
but  abydeth  shytte  styll  therein.  Than  called  the 


292 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


devyll  dredefully  to  Virgilius,  and  said,  ‘  What  have  ye 
done,  Virgilius  ?  ’■ — Virgilius  answered,  ‘  Abyde  there 
styll  to  your  day  appoynted ;  ’  and  fro  thens  forth 
abydeth  he  there.  And  so  Virgilius  became  very  con- 
nynge  in  the  practyse  of  the  black  scyence.” 

This  story  may  remind  the  reader  of.  the  Arabian 
tale  of  the  fisherman  and  the  imprisoned  Genie ;  and 
it  is  more  than  probable,  that  many  of  the  marvels 
narrated  in  the  life  of  Virgil,  are  of  Oriental  extrac¬ 
tion.  Among  such  I  am  disposed  to  reckon  the  follow¬ 
ing  whimsical  account  of  the  foundation  of  Naples, 
containing  a  curious  theory  concerning  the  origin  of 
the  earthquakes  with  which  it  is  afflicted.  Virgil,  who 
was  a  person  of  gallantry,  had,  it  seems,  carried  oft 
the  daughter  of  a  certain  Soldan,  and  was  anxious  to 
secure  his  prize. 

“  Than  he  thought  in  his  mynde  how  he  myghte 
marye  hyr,  and  thought  in  his  mynde  to  founde  in  the 
middes  of  the  see  a  fayer  towne,  with  great  landes  be- 
longynge  to  it ;  and  so  he  did  by  his  cunnynge,  and 
called  it  Napells.  And  the  fandacyon  of  it  was  of 
egges,  and  in  that  town  of  Napells  he  made  a  tower 
with  iiii  corners,  and  in  the  toppe  he  set  an  apell  upon 
an  yron  yarde,  and  no  man  culde  pull  away  that  apell 
without  he  brake  it ;  and  thoroughe  that  yren  set  he  a 
bolte,  and  in  that  bolte  set  he  a  egge.  And  he  henge 
the  apell  by  the  stauke  upon  a  cheyne,  and  so  hangeth 
it  still.  And  when  the  egge  styrreth,  so  sliulde  the 
towne  of  Napells  quake ;  and  whan  the  egge  brake, 
than  sliulde  the  towne  sinke.  Whan  he  had  made  an 
ende,  he  lette  call  it  Napells.”  This  appears  to  have 
been  an  article  of  current  belief  during  the  middle 
ages,  as  appears  from  the  statutes  of  the  order  Du 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL.  293 

Saint  Espirit  ou  droit  desir ,  instituted  in  1352.  A 
chapter  of  the  knights  is  appointed  to  be  held  annually 
at  the  Castle  of  the  Enchanted  Egg,  near  the  grotto 
of  Virgil. — Montfaucon,  vol.  ii.  p.  329. 


Note  I  2. 

Since  old  Buccleuch  the  name  did  gain, 

When  in  the  clench  the  buck  was  ta'en — P.  188. 

A  tradition  preserved  by  Scott  of  Satcliells,  who 
published,  in  1688,  A  true  History  of  the  Right  Hon¬ 
ourable  name  of  Scott,  gives  the  following  romantic 
origin  of  that  name.  Two  brethren,  natives  of  Gal¬ 
loway,  having  been  banished  from  that  country  for  a 
riot,  or  insurrection,  came  to  Rankleburn,  in  Ettrick 
Forest,  where  the  keeper,  whose  name  was  Brydone, 
received  them  joyfully,  on  account  of  their  skill  in 
winding  the  horn,  and  in  the  other  mysteries  of  the 
chase.  Kenneth  MacAlpin,  then  King  of  Scotland, 
came  soon  after  to  hunt  in  the  royal  forest,  and  pur¬ 
sued  a  buck  from  Ettrick-heuch  to  the  glen  now  called 
Buckcleuch,  about  two  miles  above  the  junction  of 
Rankleburn  with  the  river  Ettrick.  Here  the  stag 
stood  at  bay  ;  and  the  King  and  his  attendants,  who 
followed  on  horseback,  were  thrown  out  by  the  steep¬ 
ness  of  the  hill  and  the  morass.  John,  one  of  the 
brethren  from  Galloway,  had  followed  the  chase  on 
foot ;  and  now  coming  in,  seized  the  buck  by  the 
horns,  and,  being  a  man  of  great  strength  and  activity, 
threw  him  on  his  back,  and  ran  with  his  burden  about 
a  mile  up  the  steep  hill,  to  a  place  called  Cracra-Cross, 


294 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


where  Kenneth  had  halted,  and  laid  the  buck  at  the 
Sovereign’s  feet.1 

“  The  deer  being  curee’d  in  that  place, 

At  his  Majesty’s  demand, 

Then  John  of  Galloway  ran  apace, 

And  fetched  water  to  his  hand. 

The  King  did  wash  into  a  dish, 

And  Galloway  John  he  wot;  , 

He  said,  ‘  Thy  name  now  after  this 
Shall  ever  be  called  John  Scott. 

“  ‘  The  forest  and  the  dear  therein, 

We  commit  to  thy  hand; 

For  thou  shalt  sure  the  ranger  be, 

If  thou  obey  command ; 

And  for  the  buck  thou  stoutly  brought 
To  us  up  that  steep  heuch, 

Thy  designation  ever  shall 
Be  John  Scott  in  Buckscleuch.’ 
******* 

“  In  Scotland  on  Buckcleuch  was  then, 

Before  the  buck  in  the  cleuch  was  slain ; 

Night’s  men  2  at  first  they  did  appear, 

Because  moon  and  stars  to  their  arms  they  bear. 

1  Froissart  relates,  that  a  knight  of  the  household  of  the 
Comte  de  Foix  exhibited  a  similar  feat  of  strength.  The  hall- 
fire  had  waxed  low,  and  wood  was  wanted  to  mend  it.  The 
knight  went  down  to  the  court-yard,  where  stood  an  ass 
laden  with  fagots,  seized  on  the  animal  and  burden,  and 
carrying  him  up  to  the  hall  on  his  shoulders,  tumbled  him 
into  the  chimney  with  his  heels  uppermost:  a  humane  pleas- 
antry,  much  applauded  by  the  Count  and  all  the  spectators. 

2  “  Minions  of  the  moon,”  as  Falstaff  would  have  said. 
The  vocation  pursued  by  our  ancient  Borderers  may  be  jus¬ 
tified  on  the  authority  of  the  most  polished  of  the  ancient 
nations :  “  For  the  Grecians  in  old  time,  and  such  barbari¬ 
ans  as  in  the  continent  lived  neerd  unto  the  sea,  or  else  in¬ 
habited  the  islands,  after  once  they  began  to  crosse  over  one 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


295 


Their  crest,  supporters,  and  hunting-horn, 

Show  their  beginning  from  hunting  came; 

Their  name,  and  style,  the  book  doth  say, 

John  gained  them  both  into  one  day.” 

Watt’s  Bellenden. 

The  Buccleucli  arms  have  been  altered,  and  now 
allude  less  pointedly  to  this  hunting,  whether  real  or 
fabulous.  The  family  now  bear  Or,  upon  a  bend  azure, 
a  mullet  betwixt  two  crescents  of  the  field ;  in  addi¬ 
tion  to  which,  they  formerly  bore  in  the  field  a  hunt¬ 
ing  horn.  The  supporters,  now  two  ladies,  were  for¬ 
merly  a  hound  and  buck,  or,  according  to  the  old 
terms,  a  hart  of  leash  and  a  hart  of  Greece.  The 
family  of  Scott,  of  Howpasley  and  Thirlestaine,  long 
retained  the  bugle-horn ;  they  also  carried  a  bent  bow 
and  arrow  in  the  sinister  cantle,  perhaps  as  a  differ¬ 
ence.  It  is  said  the  motto  was, — Best  riding  bg  moon- 

to  another  in  ships,  became  theeves,  and  went  abroad  under 
the  conduct  of  their  more  puissant  men,  both  to  enrich  them¬ 
selves,  and  to  fetch  in  maintenance  for  the  weak;  and  falling 
upon  towns  unfortified,  or  scatteringly  inhabited,  rifled  them, 
and  made  this  the  best  means  of  thear  living;  being  a  mat¬ 
ter  at  that  time  no  where  in  disgrace,  but  rather  carrying 
with  it  something  of  glory.  This  is  manifest  by  some  that 
dwell  upon  the  continent,  amongst  whom,  so  it  be  performed 
nobly,  it  is  still  esteemed  as  an  ornament.  The  same  is  also 
proved  by  some  of  the  ancient  poets,  who  introduced  men 
questioning  of  such  as  sail  by,  on  all  coasts  alike,  whether 
they  be  theeves  or  not;  as  a  thyng  neyther  scorned  by  such 
as  were  asked,  nor  upbraided  by  those  who  were  desirous  to 
know.  They  also  robbed  one  another,  within  the  main  land; 
and  much  of  Greece  useth  that  old  custome,  as  the  Locrians , 
the  Acarnanians ,  and  those  of  the  continent  in  that  quarter, 
unto  this  day.  Moreover,  the  fashion  of  wearing  iron  re- 
maineth  yet  with  the  people  of  that  continent,  from  their  old 
trade  of  theeving.”— Hobbes’s  Thucydides ,  p.  4.  Lond. 


296 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


light,  in  allusion  to  the  crescents  on  the  shield,  and 
perhaps  to  the  habits  of  those  who  bore  it.  The 
motto  now  given  is  Amo,  applying  to  the  female  sup¬ 
porters. 


Note  K  2. 

-  The  storm-swept  Or  cades  ; 

Where  erst  St.  Clairs  held  princely  sway , 

O'er  isle  and  islet,  strait  and  hay. — P.  197. 

The  St.  Clairs  are  of  Norman  extraction,  being  de¬ 
scended  from  William  de  St.  Clair,  second  son  of  Wal- 
derne  Compte  de  St.  Clair,  and  Margaret,  daughter 
to  Richard,  Duke  of  Normandy.  He  was  called,  for 
his  fair  deportment,  the  Seemly  St.  Clair  ;  and,  settling 
in  Scotland  during;  the  reign  of  Malcolm  Caenmore, 
obtained  large  grants  of  land  in  Mid-Lothian. — These 
domains  were  increased  by  the  liberality  of  succeed¬ 
ing  monarchs  to  the  descendants  of  the  family,  and 
comprehended  the  baronies  of  Rosline,  Pentland, 
Cowsland,  Cardaine,  and  several  others.  It  is  said  a 
large  addition  was  obtained  from  Robert  Bruce,  on  the 
following  occasion  :  The  King,  in  following  the  chase 
upon  Pentland-hills,  had  often  started  a  “  white  faunch 
deer’,”  which  had  always  escaped  from  his  hounds ;  and 
he  asked  the  nobles,  who  were  assembled  around  him, 
whether  any  of  them  had  dogs,  which  they  thought 
might  be  more  successful.  No  courtier  would  affirm 
that  his  hounds  were  fleeter  than  those  of  the  king, 
until  Sir  William  St.  Clair,  of  Rosline,  unceremoni¬ 
ously  said,  he  would  wager  his  head  that  his  two 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


297 


favourite  dogs,  Help  and  Hold ,  would  kill  the  deer  be¬ 
fore  she  could  cross  the  March-burn.  The  King  in¬ 
stantly  caught  at  his  unwary  offer,  and  betted  the  for¬ 
est  of  Pentland-moor  against  the  life  of  Sir  William 
St.  Clair.  All  the  hounds  were  tied  up,  except  a  few 
ratches,  or  slow-hounds,  to  put  up  the  deer  ;  while  Sir 
William  St.  Clair,  posting  himself  in  the  best  situation 
for  slipping  his  dogs,  prayed  devoutly  to  Christ,  the 
blessed  Virgin,  and  St.  Katherine.  The  deer  was 
shortly  after  roused,  and  the  hounds  slipped ;  Sir  Wil¬ 
liam  following  on  a  gallant  steed,  to  cheer  his  dogs. 
The  hind,  however,  reached  the  middle  of  the  brook, 
upon  which  the  hunter  threw  himself  from  his  horse  in 
despair.  At  this  critical  moment,  however,  Hold  stopped 
her  in  the  brook ;  and  Help,  coming  up,  turned  her 
back,  and  killed  her  on  Sir  William’s  side.  The  King 
descended  from  the  hill,  embraced  Sir  William,  and 
bestowed  on  him  the  lands  of  Kirkton,  Logan-house, 
Earncraig,  &c.,  in  free  forestrie.  Sir  William,  in  ac¬ 
knowledgment  of  St.  Katherine’s  intercession,  built 
the  chapel  of  St.  Katherine  in  the  Hopes,  the  church¬ 
yard  of  which  is  still  to  be  seen.  The  hill  from  which 
Robert  Bruce  beheld  this  memorable  chase,  is  stiU 
called  the  King’s  Hill ;  and  the  place  where  Sir  Wil¬ 
liam  hunted,  is  called  the  Knight’s  Field.1 — MS.  History 

i  The  tomb  of  Sir  William  St.  Clair,  on  which  he  appears 
sculptured  in  armour,  with  a  greyhound  at  his  feet,  is  still 
to  be  seen  in  Roslin  chapel.  The  person  who  shows  it  always 
tells  the  story  of  his  hunting-match,  with  some  addition  to 
Mr.  Hay’s  account;  as  that  the  Knight  of  Rosline's  fright 
made  him  poetical,  and  that  in  the  last  emergency  he  shouted, 

“  Help,  Haud,  an  ye  may, 

Or  Roslin  will  lose  his  head  this  day.” 


298 


APPENDIX  TO  THE 


of  the  Family  of  St.  Clair ,  by  Richard  Augustin 
Hay,  Canon  of  St.  Genevieve. 

This  adventurous  huntsman  married  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  Malice  Spar,  Earl  of  Orkney  and  Strath- 
erne,  in  whose  right  their  son  Henry  was, -in  1379, 
created  Earl  of  Orkney,  by  Haco,  king  of  Norway. 
His  title  was  recognized  by  the  Kings  of  Scotland, 
and  remained  with  his  successors  until  it  was  annexed 
to  the  crown,  in  1471,  by  act  of  Parliament.  In  ex¬ 
change  for  this  earldom,  the  castle  and  domains  of 
Ravenscraig,  or  Ravensheuch,  were  conferred  on  Wil¬ 
liam  Saintclair,  Earl  of  Caithness. 


Note  L  2. 

Still  nods  their  palace  to  its  fall , 

Thy  pride  and  sorrow,  fair  Kirkwall. — P.  197. 

The  Castle  of  Kirkwall  was  built  by  the  St.  Clairs 
while  Earls  of  Orkney.  It  was  dismantled  by  the 
Earl  of  Caithness  about  1615,  having  been  garrisoned 
against  the  government  by  Robert  Stewart,  natural 
son  to  the  Earl  of  Orkney. 

Its  ruins  afforded  a  sad  subject  of  contemplation  to 
John,  Master  of  St.  Clair,  who,  flying  from  his  native 
country,  on  account  of  his  share  in  the  insurrection  of 
1715,  made  some  stay  at  Kirkwall. 

If  this  couplet  does  him  no  great  honour  as  a  poet,  the  con¬ 
clusion  of  the  story  does  him  still  less  credit.  He  set  his 
foot  on  the  dog,  says  the  narrator,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot, 
saying,  he  would  never  again  put  his  neck  in  such  a  risk.  As 
Mr.  Hay  does  not  mention  this  circumstance,  I  hope  it  is 
only  founded  on  the  couchant  posture  of  the  hound  on  the 
monument. 


LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL. 


299 


“  I  had  occasion  to  entertain  myself  at  Kirkwall  with 
the  melaneholie  prospect  of  the  ruins  of  the  old  castle, 
the  seat  of  the  old  Earls  of  Orkney,  my  ancestors  ; 
and  of  a  more  melancholy  reflection,  of  so  great  and 
noble  an  estate  as  the  Orkney  and  Shetland  Isles  being 
taken  from  one  of  them  by  James  the  Third,  for  fault- 
rie,  after  his  brother,  Alexander,  Duke  of  Albany, 
had  married  a  daughter  of  my  family,  and  for  protect¬ 
ing  and  defending  the  said  Alexander  against  the 
King,  who  wished  to  kill  him,  as  he  had  done  his 
youngest  brother,  the  Earl  of  Mar ;  and  for  which, 
after  the  forfaultrie,  he  gratefully  divorced  my  for- 
faulted  ancestor’s  sister ;  though  I  cannot  persuade 
myself  that  he  had  any  misalliance  to  plead  against  a 
familie  in  whose  veins  the  blood  of  Robert  Bruce  ran 
as  fresh  as  in  his  own  ;  for  their  title  to  the  crowne 
was  by  a  daughter  of  David  Bruce,  son  to  Robert ; 
and  our  alliance  was  by  marrying  a  grandchild  of  the 
same  Robert  Bruce,  and  daughter  to  the  sister  of  the 
same  David,  out  of  the  familie  of  Douglass,  which  at 
that  time  did  not  much  sullie  the  blood,  more  than  my 
ancestor’s  having  not  long  before  had  the  honour  of 
marrying  a  daughter  of  the  King  of  Denmark’s,  who 
was  named  Florentine,  and  has  left  in  the  town  of 
Kirkwall  a  noble  monument  of  the  grandeur  of  the 
times,  the  finest  church  ever  I  saw  entire  in  Scotland. 
I  then  had  no  small  reason  to  think,  in  that  unhappy 
state,  on  the  many  not  inconsiderable  services  rendered 
since  to  the  royal  familie,  for  these  many  years  bygone, 
on  all  occasions,  when  they  stood  most  in  need  of 
friends,  which  they  have  thought  themselves  very  often 
obliged  to  acknowledge  by  letters  yet  extant,  and  in  a 
style  more  like  friends  than  souveraigns  ;  our  attach- 


300 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  LAY,  &C. 


ment  to  them,  without  any  other  thanks,  having  brought 
upon  us  considerable  losses,  and  among  others,  that  of 
our  all  in  Cromwell’s  time ;  and  left  in  that  condition 
without  the  least  relief  except  what  we  found  in  our 
own  virtue.  My  father  was  the  only  man  of  the  Scots 
nation  who  had  courage  enough  to  protest  in  Parlia¬ 
ment  against  King  William’s  title  to  the  throne,  which 
was  lost,  God  knows  how :  and  this  at  a  time  when  the 
losses  iu  the  cause  of  the  royall  familie,  and  their  usual 
gratitude,  had  scarce  left  him  bread  to  maintain  a  nu¬ 
merous  familie  of  eleven  children,  who  had  soon  after 
sprung  up  on  him,  in  spite  of  all  which,  he  had  hon¬ 
ourably  persisted  in  his  principle.  I  say,  these  things 
considered,  and  after  being  treated  as  I  was,  and  in 
that  unluckie  state,  when  objects  appear  to  men  in 
their  true  light,  as  at  the  hour  of  death,  could  I  be 
blamed  for  making  some  bitter  reflections  to  myself, 
and  laughing  at  the  extravagance  and  unaccountable 
humour  of  men,  and  the  singularitie  of  my  own  case,  * 
(an  exile  for  the  cause  of  the  Stuart  family,)  when  I 
ought  to  have  known,  that  the  greatest  crime  I,  or  my 
family,  could  have  committed,  was  persevering,  to  my 
own  destruction,  in  serving  the  royal  family  faithfully, 
though  obstinately,  after  so  great  a  share  of  depression, 
and  after  they  had  been  pleased  to  doom  me  and  my 
familie  to  starve. — MS.  Memoirs  of  John ,  Master  of 
St.  Clair 


END  OF  YOL.  I. 


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